I once went to a seminar at a writers conference and listened to a guy argue that a story is essentially a promise. To paraphrase, in the opening of a novel, a skilled author tells us not only what the story is about but asks (or implies) the story question—the overall question that the novel “promises” to answer. It’s the question that hovers in the background of every chapter, every scene, every
line of a well-written book.
In a great novel, this question grabs you and holds you until the end of the story. Beside me right now is such a novel. Here is the first paragraph:
A writer never forgets the first time he accepted a few coins or a word of praise in exchange for a story. He will never forget the sweet poison of vanity in his blood and the belief that, if he succeeds in not letting anyone discover his lack of talent, the dream of literature will provide him with a roof over his head, a hot meal at the end of the day, and what he covets the most: his name printed on a miserable piece of paper that surely will outlive him. A writer is condemned to remember that moment, because from then on he is doomed and his soul has a price.
The first sentence shows us a want (money and praise), who wants it, and that this want is deep and lasting. The second sentence hints of danger (“sweet poison”) and uncertainty and fear (that what he wants could be snatched away from him); it further clarifies the desire with the term “miserable piece of paper,” which at the same time hints of sadness and regret. The central want/desire/goal is clear, who wants it is clear, and that there is danger is clear. In fact, the stakes could not be higher: it is the writer’s very soul that is at risk. So, by the end of this first paragraph of 113 words, we are asking ourselves: “What is the price of a
writer’s soul?”
I’m only 75 pages into this 531-page novel, so at this point I can only assume that this question is the “story question.” But after an opening paragraph like this, I’m more than ready to trust this writer will deliver what he’s promising. I’m really looking forward to getting deeper into The Angel’s Game, by Carlos Ruiz Zafón.
(BTW, the conference I refer to above is the Surrey International Writers’ Conference, and the seminar leader was Bill Johnson.)
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