It Was the Best of Lines, It Was the Worst of Lines

Paul's taking a bit of a break this week (his treatment is proving to be a bit exhausting, however he WILL be back) so here's a post - following this week's theme about openings - that he posted in August 2019. Depending on your perspective that's either "not every long ago" or is eons ago, in the "pre-COVID period". Either way, it's a fascinating, and insightful post. 

Readers often read the opening few lines or page to a book before deciding to buy. What makes an opening sentence stand out above the rest? Give examples of openings, including your own, that you believe work brilliantly. Any tips or lessons learned for new authors about what to avoid on that first page? 

by Paul D. Marks

“It was the best of times,
It was the worst of times.”

I don’t think you can beat Dickens and that opening line. And despite the title of this post, I’m not doing the worst lines here.

It’s interesting, when I first started writing this piece I went back to a lot of mystery/crime (and some non-mystery) books that I really like. And I found that a lot of them didn’t have what I would consider particularly catchy or hook-y opening lines. Though I did find some (see below). Yet for one reason or another I was still hooked into those stories. So this leads me to believe that, while a good opening line is a good thing, it’s not the only thing that one needs. Maybe these days it’s a little more important because everything is moving faster and people need to be hooked quicker. But I’m thinking that a good opening paragraph or even a few pages will do the trick.

Also, some of the lines I would have used have been snatched up earlier in the week. Not wanting to repeat those, I’ve come up with some other examples.

Re: my own openings, coming from a screenwriting background, I do usually try to open a story with a hook or teaser. You need something to draw readers in and give them a little taste of what lies in store for them. Like some of my fellow Criminal Minds have noted, it doesn’t have to be a body or a murder, but something intriguing has to happen. There has to be a compelling reason to keep reading. And clearly the style or genre of the story will make a difference in terms of the opening. So let’s get to it.

Here’s the openings from some novels that I like:


The Poet  – Michael Connelly:

Talk about a great opening line—the first sentence really intrigues you. You know this character is involved in crime—maybe a cop, a newspaper reporter? Death is a normal occurrence for him, but then comes the reversal, “But my rule didn’t protect me—.” Now the reader knows something unusual is happening, something different and this is not going to be your run of the mill murder story. This is, however, my favorite Michael Connelly story of all of them.


Nightmare Alley – William Lindsay Gresham:

Stan Carlisle stood well back from the entrance of the canvas enclosure, under the blaze of a naked light bulb, and watched the geek. 

This geek was a thin man who wore a suit of long underwear dyed chocolate brown. The wig was black and looked like a mop, and the brown greasepaint on the emaciated face was streaked and smeared with the heat and rubbed off around the mouth.

This opening sets an atmosphere that’s mysterious and piques your curiosity. You have no idea where the story is going, but the description gives you a visual image that is so strong you feel like you’re there and you want to know who the geek is? What’s he going to do? And where is this story going to take me?


Tell No One – Harlan Coben:

This opening creates so many questions. It lets the reader know that they’re in store for a mystery that will be complex and multi-layered. It sets us up to wonder what happened in the past and what happened that altered everything? Already your imagination starts going into overdrive.


The Grifters – Jim Thompson:

Three paragraphs into the story and we don’t know who Dillon is yet or what his problem is, but we immediately know he has problems. And we know they’re not your ordinary type of problems. And we’re sucked into Dillon’s life and dragged into all his issues. Again, this opening sets a tone and mood. You know you’re in for a rough ride.


Down There: A.K.A. Shoot the Piano Player – David Goodis:

Why were there no street lamps? Why was the man kneeling at the curb, spitting blood? That intrigues me in this, my favorite David Goodis novel. And don’t go by the movie where the action was changed to France.

This is an example where the opening starts at the end of the story and we go back to find out what led up to this. A great opening sets mood, tone and makes us ask questions. It draws you in.


Devil in a Blue Dress – Walter Mosley:

Here you have a great example of voice. We get a taste of the narrator’s (Easy Rawlins’) personality and we want to know more about him. Yes, we are intrigued by the white man who walks into the room, but the real grabber is Easy’s reaction and the little tidbit of his history that we learn about. His character draws us in.


And one I always site from Raymond Chandler’s short story Red Wind:

There was a desert wind blowing that night. It was one of those hot dry Santa Ana's that come down through the mountain passes and curl your hair and make your nerves jump and your skin itch. On nights like that every booze party ends in a fight. Meek little wives feel the edge of the carving knife and study their husbands' necks. Anything can happen. You can even get a full glass of beer at a cocktail lounge.

This is the classic opening that I’ve been inspired by again and again. What do I love about it? It describes a mood and setting that is so real you can feel it, taste it and smell it. And, of course, there’s Chandler’s voice, his acerbic wit and keen observation of human nature. He’s a master at openings.

Here are some openings from some of my novels:


Broken Windows:

The Hollywood Sign beckoned her like a magnet—or like a moth to a flame. The sign glowed golden in the magic hour sun—that time of day around sunrise and sunset when the light falls soft and warm and cinematographers love to shoot. Like so many others, Susan Karubian had come here seeking fame and fortune, hoping to make her mark on the world. Oh hell, she had come to be a star like all the others. And she would do it, just not quite in the heady way she’d anticipated.

I mostly write things set in L.A., so I like using film terms like “magic hour” to set a tone for the story. And I try to set up the mood and tone and describe the scene so readers can feel like they’re there. I want the reader to feel like they are in Susan’s place and empathize. And to wonder what she’s doing at the Hollywood Sign and why.


White Heat:

My father always said I was a fuckup, that the only reason we get along is ’cause he keeps his mouth shut. Maybe he’s right:

I fucked up high school.

Fucked up college.

Fucked up my marriage.

Fucked up my life by leaving the service.

And now I’ve fucked up a case.

Fucked it up real bad.

Teddie Matson was different. She had a golden life, until her path had the misfortune of crossing mine. I sat staring out the window of my office, k.d. lang playing in the background. It was a while till the sun would set, that golden hour when everything takes on a gilded glow.

Golden hour is the time when the light hits just right in the early morning or late afternoon. The time when movie cinematographers most like to shoot. The light is tawny and warm. Gentle. It makes the stars shine brighter.

Golden hour is the time when Teddie Matson was killed.

This opening introduces my character Duke and hopefully draws readers in in response to Duke’s voice. Again, I’m using film terms like “golden hour’ to set a tone and to contrast the illusion of the film world to the harsh reality of real life.


Vortex:

All I wanted was to forget the past. Put it behind me and never think about it again. But you can’t forget the past. Not really. It’s always there inside you, like a leech holding on, sucking blood and life from you every minute of every day. Sucking down part of your soul, holding you back and keeping you from moving forward. Like a shark, if you don’t—or can’t—move forward you die. The past is one harsh mistress. And it won’t let you forget it either.

I came home from the war and felt like I was on the front line again. To hell and back and back to hell again.

I guess this opening sums up my character’s philosophy and maybe makes you want to read more. It makes you wonder what happened that could be as bad as being in a war?


So, there you have it. What are some of your favorite openings?

~.~.~

And now for the usual BSP:

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Sic transit gloria mundi

Which would you choose? Fame or fortune?

by Paul D. Marks

How 'bout we go 50-50 on this one.

Seems a lot of people want to be famous these days…but not for doing much worthy of fame: Paris Hilton, a whole family tree of Kardashians, the bling ring. I address this issue to some degree in my novella Vortex and Broken Windows, the upcoming sequel to White Heat. But before I get to them:

Sure I want to be famous. And I want to be rich. But I’d like to be those things for doing something worthwhile…and that can be entertaining people. Because as John L. Sullivan (Joel McCrea) learned in Preston Sturges’s “Sullivan’s Travels” that’s what people really want.

I keep telling my wife that I’m semi-semi famous, though my goal is to be semi-famous. The truth is I’m probably more like semi-semi-semi to the 10th degree famous. But the goal is still to be semi-famous. I don’t think I could ever be as famous as the Real Housewives of Here, There and Everywhere for doing nothing or even less than zero to paraphrase a great novel, or Snooki for tanning and Mike the Situation for adoring his own body. But if I can take people away from their world and their worries for a few hours, I’m good. Even if it’s into a much darker world of noir and mystery, at least it’s away from their day to day problems.

As for being rich, I’d settle for a house on each coast (that includes the West Coast, the East Coast, the Gulf Coast and the Amalfi Coast), a private plane, a yacht, a decommissioned missile silo for a very private writer’s retreat. And an endless supply of pizza and M&Ms – peanut only and no blue ones – they’re unnatural looking, how much blue food is there? – and hey, if Van Halen can do it, so can I.

Other than that I don’t really have much to say on whether I’d rather be rich or famous. It would be nice to be both. But I do have some thoughts on our fame-obsessed culture and address these issues in my writing.

In Vortex, a noir thriller, Zach Tanner is an Afghan war vet. Before and during the war he and his buddies have big plans to get rich and famous quick. Maybe by not quite doing the right thing. Being wounded in the war has given Zach time to think about it and he has a change of heart. Here’s a couple excerpts from Vortex:

It sounds corny, but I did want to be somebody. Didn’t really care how I got there either and maybe that was my problem. Maybe I should have cared. Back then I didn’t really care about much, fucked around and just wanted to be famous—rich and famous. And I thought if I could get my hands on some money that could help me on the road to fame.

Fuck, everybody I knew wanted to be famous. Everybody but those wanna-bes like George who were actually studying and heading somewhere. Some people have a road paved with gold. Others have a dirt-road, lined with ruts and potholes and IEDs, and they’re lucky if they can reach the next milestone before getting waxed. I had every advantage a person could hope for, but I couldn’t have gotten into UCLA or USC if my life depended on it. I was just lazy, especially when it came to studying. Nah, I wanted a faster road and a furious rod.

And from another part of Vortex:

Jess was still where I was before I deployed, still wanting the bling, but I’d moved on. Being a soldier, being in a war and being wounded changed me. She was just where I’d left her. Still wanting the brass ring but not wanting to do much to get it. The problem is, no matter how much you have, it’s never enough.

In Broken Windows, Duke, the P.I. from White Heat, who solved a case and got his “fifteen” minutes

of fame doing so, says:

Ever since my seven minutes of fame with Teddie Matson’s case, I had every two bit producer who needed the goods on his wife or girlfriend or boyfriend, or all three, or had to know what the competition at the other studios were up to, wanting me to work for them. I had no end of cases to work. A lot of Hollywood riff-raff; the fact that they might be worth a hundred million dollars didn’t make them any less riff or raff. I was making good money for a change. And I hated every minute of it.

So many people in our society want to be famous these days. They don’t realize they’re making a bargain with the Devil when they ask for that. When they do realize it it’s too late. But most famous people aren’t famous for doing anything important. I didn’t want to be one of them. And fame is a double-edged sword. Sometimes it opens doors, but you also can’t be anonymous. Some people ask for it—movie stars, then resent the price that goes with it. I hadn’t asked for it. But maybe it was part of my penance.

I think there’s a recurring theme going on here, so that hits on how I feel about fame and fortune.

I’ve met many famous people in one capacity or another. Some were nice, some not so nice. Fame doesn’t guarantee you’ll be a good person or happy or even prosperous. And when I think of fame I’m reminded of this line, paraphrased from the Jose Ferrer version of “Moulin Rouge”:

One should never meet a person whose work one admires. What they do is always so much better than what they are.

I hope if I ever do get beyond semi-semi-semi to the 10th degree famous that I will still be humble and share my M&Ms with the little people who helped me get where I am. (It’s a joke – okay, you people who take things too seriously.)

To me, fame without purpose is pointless and fortune without respect for others is meaningless.

***

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“I was born when she kissed me. I died when she left me. I lived a few weeks while she loved me.”

What's your favorite movie adaptation of a crime novel?

by Paul D. Marks

It’s hard to pick just one. Off the top of my head a whole list pops up. And rather than go into specific plot details I’m just going to give my general impressions. Plots can be looked up on the web or, even better, seen when watching the flicks. So, in no particular order:

Double Indemnity: My favorite film noir. If I had to show a Martian an example of film noir this would be it. Sticks close to Cain’s book but deviates where it has to, while staying true to his vision. And I think the ending is better than his. But why not, it was written by Billy Wilder and that novice screenwriter Raymond Chandler who, it’s said, makes a cameo appearance. I’m not sure one can say this movie singlehandedly established the noir genre and look, but it sure did a lot to get it off the ground.

The Grifters: Every time I see this adaptation of Jim Thompson’s novel I love it more. And that’s saying a lot because I liked it a lot the first time I saw it. Everything just works. And comes together.

LA Confidential: James Ellroy is—or was—one of my favorite mystery writers. Right up there with Raymond Chandler (well, he’s in a class by himself) and Ross MacDonald. But Ellroy fell a notch or two for me when his writing became so stylized and clipped that it was hard to read. He’s sort of moved up a rung again with Perfidia. But now to the point at hand: LA Confidential, the third book in Ellroy’s LA Quartet (The Black Dahlia, The Big Nowhere, LA Conf., White Jazz). If I recall correctly it’s in LA Confidential that Ellroy begins the more clipped style that he would explore and expand further, but not necessarily to the better in later books. But LA Confidential is a terrific book and, in some ways, maybe even a better movie. I’m sure it was very difficult to condense down all the plots and characters of the novel into a cohesive movie that kept the mood, tone and spirit of the book. But screenwriters Brian Helgeland and Curtis Hanson, who also directed, did a terrific job. I went back and reread the novel after seeing the movie for about the 90^th time (I’m hardly exaggerating) and had (and still do have) a hard time deciding which I like better. But I think at this point the movie has become the story for me for better or for worse.

The Postman Always Rings Twice: Another movie based on a James M. Cain novel. Imho, another great adaptation of a terrific crime novel. And no matter how much one loves the novel can it beat Lana Turner’s entrance in the movie?

Out of the Past: Another of my all-time favorite film noirs. Adapted by Geoffrey Homes from a novel by Daniel Mainwaring, who is Geoffrey Homes, so it’s sort of like the song Constantinople and Istanbul (“Istanbul was Constantinople, Now it's Istanbul, not Constantinople...”). The novel’s title is Build My Gallows High and in the movie Jane Greer, one of the deadliest femme fatales, says: “Don't you see you've only me to make deals with now?” To which Robert Mitchum replies, “Build my gallows high, baby.” Another great adaptation of a great noir book.

Dark Passage: based on the novel of the same name by David Goodis. I actually think this adaptation is better than the book. I liked this movie so much that many years ago, after having seen it a couple times, I wanted to see who wrote the book it was based on. From there I read the novel and went on to read all of Goodis’ novels. He’s become one of my favorite noir writers, the “poet of the losers,” as Geoffrey O'Brien calls him. But speaking of good and bad adaptations, my favorite Goodis book is Down There, made into the movie Shoot the Piano Player by Francois Truffaut. Love the book, the movie, in which the characters are transposed to France, not so much....

The Maltese Falcon: What can you say? A great book by Hammett. A terrific movie by John Huston. One of the best in both categories.

In a Lonely Place: The screen version is written by Andrew Solt and Edmund H. North, directed by Nicholas Ray. I’ve mentioned this here and elsewhere, to me the movie version is hands and fists better than the novel. Why? Because it’s more ambiguous and ambivalent. Spoiler: In the novel, by Dorothy B. Hughes, we know that Dix (the Bogart character in the film) is a stone cold bad guy from the get-go. In the movie, we’re just not sure. That makes all the difference for me, especially in his relationship with Gloria Grahame. This is one of my favorite movies of all time of any genre, actually tied for second place with Ghost World, and just behind my fave, Casablanca. This is a terrific noir and a great movie. And, of course, every time I mention it I have to mention the Smithereens song of the same name, which “borrows” and paraphrases these lines from the film: “I was born when she kissed me. I died when she left me. I lived a few weeks while she loved me.” And, as a sidenote, and I don’t think I’ve mentioned this before, though if I have sorry to repeat, I bought a one sheet poster of the movie from Pat DiNizio (lead singer and songwriter of the Smithereens), so every time I look at the poster I think about him sitting under it, writing that song. Doubt he’d remember me, but for me that’s a cool memory.

Click here to see a YouTube video

Raymond Chandler: Oh, you say, he’s not a movie or a book. But he wrote both and many of his works were adapted to the big screen and he’s just plain in a class by himself. Too many to discuss here, but here’s a sampling. The Big Sleep: Even though nobody, including Chandler, could totally follow the plot, it’s still a great movie, a pretty good adaptation and it has Bogie and Bacall...and Elisha Cook, Jr. Who could ask for more? Murder, My Sweet, based on Farewell, My Lovely. Dick Powell wanted to reinvent himself and his career, from youthful singing idol to tough guy. He did it here and he did it well. To be honest, it’s been a long time since I’ve read the book, but I love the movie version. Can’t beat Mike Mazurki as Moose Malloy and Claire Trevor is always terrific. Lady in the Lake: Interesting experiment by director-star Robert Montgomery, using the subjective camera technique. I’ve grown to like this more over time. And on the flipside, The Long Goodbye, one of my favorite Chandler books, but hey that’s like saying one of my favorite Beatle albums. I love them all! But I hate this movie with a passion. I don’t think Elliot Gould’s portrayal is what Chandler had in mind. I know some people love it. You’re entitled to your opinion...even if you’re wrong ☺. The only thing I like about this movie is the Hightower Apartments in Hollywood, where Gould/Marlowe lives and where I once looked for an apartment. Sorry I didn’t take it.

On the opposite side of the tracks, a couple movies that were horrible adaptations:

Shoot the Piano Player: As mentioned above, adapted by the great Francois Truffaut from a book I love. Unfortunately, I don’t think it really works and I’d love to see another version that sticks closer to the book.

Bonfire of the Vanities: I put this here because it does involve crime. It was a great book that examined a lot of pertinent issues. But the filmmakers didn’t have the courage of their convictions and didn’t make the book at all. They tried to turn it into a silly farce or satire, but all they got was a mosh pit cesspool of crap. Why they bought it in the first place I’ll never know. If they wanted to make another movie they should just have commissioned a screenplay. But let this be a warning to anyone selling to Hollywood: once you do, they can do whatever they want with your property and once it goes through the Hollywood Grinder you might not even recognize it.

***

And now for some delightful BSP – remember, there’s a P at the end of the BS!


Vortex: My new Mystery-Thriller novella coming September 1^st.

...a nonstop staccato action noir... Vortex lives up to its name, quickly creating a maelstrom of action and purpose to draw readers into a whirlpool of intrigue and mystery... but be forewarned: once picked up, it's nearly impossible to put down before the end.
—D. Donovan, Senior Reviewer, Midwest Book Review

Fade Out: flash fiction story – set at the famous corner of Hollywood and Vine – coming on Akashic’s Mondays Are Murder, Monday (big surprise, huh?), August 17^th. Here’s the link, but my story won’t be live till 8/17: http://www.akashicbooks.com/tag/mondays-are-murder/


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