I think you might be too hard on yourself with some of these (the opening of Frozen Voice, in particular, grabbed me harder than maybe anything else you've written -- this is probably in part because I'm a huge linguistics nerd, but I love that story from beginning to end!).
But yeah, I think this is an interesting analysis and it's certainly given me some food for thought! I agree with you about the surprising/mysterious nature of really effective hooks; you want to read on to find out what the explanation could possibly be for such an odd, seemingly contradictory statement. The best way to hook me is with a question of some kind.
At the same time, I think reading this post also made me think about how I look for different things from short stories and novels, and the hook is, I guess, part of that, or at least a good signaling mechanism for indicating what's in the box. In particular, the Bobet and Garrity openings are ones that I remember grabbing me instantly and the stories then held me to the end because they were just so fucking weird. But I'm not sure if either one could have held my attention for the length of a novel, because it's too weird, too much bizarreness hitting me from all sides. Some people might enjoy that rapid pace of shifting mental gymnastics kept up for an entire novel -- there are certainly novels out there that are like that -- but I can think of very few that worked for me.
Whereas, looking at the openings of some of my favorite novels, they're often mysterious or intriguing, but in a much quieter way. Or they're even more subtle than that; I just picked Watership Down off the shelf to flip through the first pages, and it opens with an extended evening scene in a pastoral meadow (with BLOOD AND VIOLENCE later, but the first few pages are just a slow, lyrical description of a quiet English countryside). I don't know if I would've stuck with it in short story form, but for a novel it works fine. Roots is next to it on the shelf and it's even more mellow; it starts with the main character being born and then proceeds from there.
I know I'm bad at hooks and I'm trying to get better. Overall, I think I'm weak on craft and need to improve. But I also think part of the problem is that I'm a natural long-form writer rather than a short-form writer, and it's interesting to think about how that might affect my overall pacing and style, even when I'm trying to work in a shorter medium. (For me, the God's War lines you quoted would fascinate me in a short story but as a novel opening, it doesn't really call to me all that much; not to say that I might not enjoy the novel -- it's on my too-read list! -- but for me as a reader, this feels like a more catchy short-story opening than something to hook me into a novel. It's too much information packed into too short a space. I like a novel to unfold and absorb me gradually.)
... btw, I really appreciated the heads-up about the Strange Horizons gig but I never did do anything with it. I just didn't feel that I would be able to put in the time (and as busy as I am right now with school, I think it was a good choice). But thank you!
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chiming
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Date: 2013-10-05 06:46 am (UTC)From:But yeah, I think this is an interesting analysis and it's certainly given me some food for thought! I agree with you about the surprising/mysterious nature of really effective hooks; you want to read on to find out what the explanation could possibly be for such an odd, seemingly contradictory statement. The best way to hook me is with a question of some kind.
At the same time, I think reading this post also made me think about how I look for different things from short stories and novels, and the hook is, I guess, part of that, or at least a good signaling mechanism for indicating what's in the box. In particular, the Bobet and Garrity openings are ones that I remember grabbing me instantly and the stories then held me to the end because they were just so fucking weird. But I'm not sure if either one could have held my attention for the length of a novel, because it's too weird, too much bizarreness hitting me from all sides. Some people might enjoy that rapid pace of shifting mental gymnastics kept up for an entire novel -- there are certainly novels out there that are like that -- but I can think of very few that worked for me.
Whereas, looking at the openings of some of my favorite novels, they're often mysterious or intriguing, but in a much quieter way. Or they're even more subtle than that; I just picked Watership Down off the shelf to flip through the first pages, and it opens with an extended evening scene in a pastoral meadow (with BLOOD AND VIOLENCE later, but the first few pages are just a slow, lyrical description of a quiet English countryside). I don't know if I would've stuck with it in short story form, but for a novel it works fine. Roots is next to it on the shelf and it's even more mellow; it starts with the main character being born and then proceeds from there.
I know I'm bad at hooks and I'm trying to get better. Overall, I think I'm weak on craft and need to improve. But I also think part of the problem is that I'm a natural long-form writer rather than a short-form writer, and it's interesting to think about how that might affect my overall pacing and style, even when I'm trying to work in a shorter medium. (For me, the God's War lines you quoted would fascinate me in a short story but as a novel opening, it doesn't really call to me all that much; not to say that I might not enjoy the novel -- it's on my too-read list! -- but for me as a reader, this feels like a more catchy short-story opening than something to hook me into a novel. It's too much information packed into too short a space. I like a novel to unfold and absorb me gradually.)
... btw, I really appreciated the heads-up about the Strange Horizons gig but I never did do anything with it. I just didn't feel that I would be able to put in the time (and as busy as I am right now with school, I think it was a good choice). But thank you!