'This Did Something Powerful to Me': Authors' Favorite First Lines of Books

Jonathan Franzen, Margaret Atwood, David Gilbert, Roxane Gay, and other writers share their thoughts on what makes an inviting and memorable opening sentence.
first lines authors.jpg
AP and Library of Congress.

When I interviewed Stephen King for the By Heart series, he told me about some of his favorite opening lines in literature. Then, the author had an off-the-cuff idea.

"You could go around and ask people about their favorite first lines," he said. "I think you'll find that most of them, right away, establish the sense of voice we talked about. Why not do it? I'd love to know, like, Jonathan Franzen's favorite first line."

So I reached out to Franzen and 21 other writers. In honor of King's new novel Joyland and its nouveau-pulp publisher Hard Case Crime, there are a good number of crime writers featured in this list. Other writers I spoke to don't write crime fiction at all, preferring to focus on other brands of human mystery. Collected below, the opening lines they picked range widely in tone and execution--but in each, you can almost feel the reader's mind beginning to listen, hear the inward swing of some inviting door.

Dashiell Hammett (AP)

Megan Abbott (Dare Me, The End of Everything)

I first heard Personville called Poisonville by a red-haired mucker named Hickey Dewey in the Big Ship in Butte. --Dashiell Hammett, Red Harvest

Raymond Chandler (AP)

Charles Ardai (Editor, Hard Case Crime; author of Fifty-to-One)

The first time I laid eyes on Terry Lennox he was drunk in a Rolls-Royce Silver Wraith outside the terrace of the Dancers. --Raymond Chandler, The Long Goodbye

Herman Mellville (Library of Congress)

Margaret Atwood (Oryx and Crake, The Blind Assassin)

David Gilbert (& Sons, The Normals)

Call me Ishmael. --Herman Melville, Moby-Dick

Yes, yes, perhaps not the most original choice, but the power of those three words still to this day excite my blood like no other. It is both command and entreaty, a rechristening by way of pen scratching into paper. A second before this person was likely a John or a Philip, a Henry. A strange kind of pause lingers. An end before the beginning.

V.S. Naipaul (Reuters)

Peter Blauner (Slipping Into Darkness, Slow Motion Riot)

The world is what it is; men who are nothing, who allow themselves to become nothing, have no place in it. --V. S. Naipaul, A Bend in the River

Donald E. Westlake (AP / Louis Lanzano)

Lawrence Block (A Drop of the Hard Stuff, When the Sacred Ginmill Closes)

When the car stopped rolling, Parker kicked out the windshield and crawled through onto the wrinkled hood, Glock first. --Richard Stark, Backflash

When the guy with asthma finally came in from the fire escape, Parker rabbit-punched him and took his gun away. --Richard Stark, The Mourner

When the woman screamed, Parker awoke and rolled off the bed. --Richard Stark, The Outfit

When the bandages came off, Parker looked in the mirror at a stranger. --Richard Stark, the Man with the Getaway Face

When the knock came at the door, Parker was just turning to the obituary page. --Richard Stark, The Jugger

All five of these are opening lines from the Parker novels, by Donald E. Westlake writing as Richard Stark.

They're all my favorites.

John Cheever (AP)

Ethan Canin (America America, The Palace Thief)

This is being written in another seaside cottage on another coast. Gin and whiskey have bitten rings in the table where I sit. --John Cheever, A Vision of the World

I know that's TWO sentences. But pretend there's a semi-colon in there.

When I was in college, this particular opening did something powerful to me. I remember reading it aloud to a friend, marveling at the ennui of the first sentence and the dark draw of the second. It comes fairly late in Cheever's opus, and I think he was growing grim by then. I can see those rings.

Anyway, it may not be the opening of 100 Years of Solitude, but it sure meant a lot to me when I was just becoming interested in writing.

Ernest Hemingway (AP)

Ron Carlson (Oakpine, The Signal)

My choice is a famous sentence, that opening of Hemingway's The Short Happy Life of Francis Macomber. It reads:

It was now lunch time and they were all sitting under the double green fly of the dining tent pretending that nothing had happened.

Years ago, I relished it as a reader, but since I've come to admire it as a story writer. He was so smart to put so much in the bank with that sentence. It suggests the inventory that he'll draw from as the tale unfolds. He's rich. I also like that detail of the "double green fly of the dining tent," offering us the specific place, a real thing, the beginning of the grounding credibility which was so often the earmark and method of his work.

Mickey Spillane (AP)

Max Allan Collins (Road to Perdition, Ask Not)

Below is my favorite passage from Mickey Spillane, the much derided bestselling author who was attacked in the 1950s in The Atlantic and elsewhere. From One Lonely Night:

Nobody ever walked across the bridge, not on a night like this. The rain was misty enough to be almost foglike, a cold gray curtain that separated me from the pale ovals of white that were faces locked behind the steamed-up windows of the cars that hissed by. Even the brilliance that was Manhattan by night was reduced to a few sleepy, yellow lights off in the distance.

James Joyce (AP)

Lydia Davis (The Collected Stories of Lydia Davis; translator, Marcel Proust's Swann's Way)

Presented by

Joe Fassler is a writer based in Brooklyn. His fiction has appeared in The Boston Review, and he regularly interviews authors for The Lit Show. In 2011, his reporting for TheAtlantic.com was a finalist for a James Beard Foundation Award in Journalism.

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