I’m about to start chapter one of Death in a Ghostly Hue, my third art center mystery. Each time I begin a new mystery, I must calm down my PTSD from my disappointing past of chapter one disasters.
Back in 2018, I was writing a mystery called A Death at Tippitt Pond. It’s about a 1971 murder that affects the present day. Young Beth Russell, researcher and genealogist in the New York City writing community, skeptically hears she has inherited a large estate in a small Midwest town via a very mysterious story about a murdered mother, possible adoption, imprisoned-then-missing-and-possibly-dead father, and a whole team of suspicious people who were there the day of the murder and who have prime motives to have done the dirty deed. (Trust me. It does make sense if described in more than one convoluted sentence or paragraph.)
So. What to research and where to begin my story? Have
I mentioned I love to research?
My first idea: Begin the story in New York City where
a private investigator for an Illinois lawyer has been following Beth Russell to
try to persuade her to fly to Illinois and meet with the lawyer who thinks she
might be the long-lost, last member of the wealthy Tippitt family.
I researched the heck out of it. (I haven’t been to
New York City since the mid-1980s.) I describe the Rose Room in the New York
City Public Library where Beth is researching. I describe her passing the two
lions and heading in large crowds to the subway. It’s Christmas time, so I
watch videos of Bryant Park at Christmas since Beth walks through the park. Oh,
then there are subway stations and connections to get to her home in Long
Island. I map her stops. Lots of traffic, lots of people. She catches a glimpse
of a man who looks like he’s following her. Great anxiety. Dark tone and
possibilities. He follows her to her apartment complex, but she doesn’t let him
in. He shows up at the library the next day to talk to her about this inheritance.
I send my chapters off to my editor. No, she said. There
is too much “stuff” going on before she goes back to the small town. It’s a
cozy mystery. Try again. Arghh…
My second idea: Beth needs to have a reason to go back
to that small town. I begin the story at the NYC Public Library. Beth is
sitting at a table working. Ah, I could still use my description of the Rose
Room but slash two chapters of pursuit across Long Island. That’s a bummer
since I’d researched taking the subway and walking in NYC crowds, but I had to
throw all of that out. Also throw out dark tone and possibilities. Now, I have
a conversation between the investigator and Beth, and Beth finds his story
impossible. But he offers her a free ticket and an all-expenses-paid trip over
the Christmas holidays, so she decides to go. She’s curious. Ah, great
motivation, I think.
Off to my editor. She replies. Too much context and
background. Get the darn thing started!
I am sad, and I take a few days to lick my wounds and
recover. Caramel and sea salt ice cream helps.
My third Idea: Beth is having lunch with Gabrielle Martinez
(Gabby), her best friend, in a plush New York City restaurant. Yes, I
researched the heck out of the menus of several restaurants in NYC before
describing their lunch plates. Throw out the NYC Public Library, the Rose Room,
Bryant Park, subway schedules, and all that simmering darkness beneath the
chase across NYC. She tells Gabby about the investigator who accosted her at
the NYC Public Library, a scene the reader now only hears about. Gabby
convinces her she should take a chance and see if this is legit. What does she
have to lose?
I send these chapters off to my editor. Sitting in a
restaurant? No excitement. No inciting event. Think motion. Draw your reader
in. Slash and burn.
My fourth idea:
Beth Russell has just landed in Illinois from New York City over the
Christmas holidays and is driving the hour-long highway to get to Sweet Iron,
Illinois. Throw out all the research about New York City, lunch at a
restaurant, or any thoughts describing her plane ride and the obnoxious person
sitting next to her. She doesn’t know what’s coming, and she thinks this is a
wild goose chase. However, the investigator (who had spoken to her in New York
City) convinced her to check it out. At least I don’t have to research Illinois
highways or snowstorms. I live them.
No, my editor says. Driving down the highway for an
introductory chapter? Are you kidding?
Me, having a meltdown.
My fifth idea: I stare at my laptop screen before I
start yet again. For several days. This time Beth Russell is across the street
from Tippitt House in the small town of Sweet Iron, Illinois. She crosses the
street, is admitted to the house, and waits for the lawyer she spoke to the
previous day. The story he told her is impossible to believe. But they did a
DNA test, and now he’s going to reveal the results. She’s travelled 974 miles
or 15.5 hours from my original chapter one. Now she IS in the small town, the
mystery of her birth and inheritance is about to be revealed, and a terrible
secret about her father ends the chapter. Throw out all research about the New
York City Public Library, the Rose Room, Bryant Park, the subway stations, the
route to Long Island, the New York City restaurants, snowstorms, plane rides.
Sigh.
This is more like it, says my editor. You didn’t
really need to include New York City.
Is it any wonder I’m sitting here in front of a blank
screen and blinking cursor considering where to start Death in a Ghostly Hue?
What makes a great first
chapter for you, readers?
Ah yes, the writer's throat-clearing chapters before the action starts. Heck, Susan, you might consider writing the chapters (sans the research) and then leave them out when it comes time to send material to your editor.
ReplyDeleteAs to your question: an author must find any one of the myriad ways to make me wonder what is going to happen. But if I'm bored and not curious, I probably won't read the second chapter.
I think of it as the opening of a play or opera: introduce main character, get to know her a bit, introduce the problem, and let the action commence.
ReplyDeleteI always start "too early" in the first few chapters, then try to figure out where the "real" beginning is, go back & note what of the background really needs to be incorporated later, and work from there.
ReplyDeleteAnd I learned early on to avoid the dreaded "in the car on the way to the mystery" beginning.
Of course, we should realize that expectations change, and that not all mysteries need to go by what is presently considered to be "cozy" standards. Some very successful authors take the time to ground their readers (or even use, gasp, prologues.) One of them once told me that, once readers "know" the author and are very sure they will like what comes to follow, a "soft start" can serve as a buildup in and of itself.
Ah, Jim. So many ways to try to start a mystery. I may take you up on your suggestion.
ReplyDeleteYes, Margaret. And you make it sound so easy! As I work on my third art center mystery, I'll keep all this in mind.
ReplyDeleteKathleen, thank you. You are making me feel much more confident with the start to this new book. By now, perhaps I can be forgiven if the first chapter isn't filled with explosions or car chases.
ReplyDeleteI love it! Yes, a writer’s life. I read Death on Tippet Pond. It’s a fabulous book and the opening draws you right into the story.
ReplyDeleteI realized long ago that those first chapters are for me. I need to ground myself - they don't make it to the second draft, and that's fine.
When I first began reading cozies, they were British offerings. When I discovered US cozy authors I devoured them, but I noticed a huge difference in openings. The Brit books began with the full cast of characters. You got to know and care about all of them, then the murder occurred. The reader lost a friend (or a foe, depending on the author's style). In the US books it was right to the chase and you learn about the decedent in flashbacks. Interesting stylistic differences. I enjoy both.
Kait, I would much rather do the British opening!! This is a real conflict in my own mind. It seems to result in a lot if re-writing.
ReplyDeleteLove this post! So frustrating, but now you have all that information for a fabulous short story—or a different novel!
ReplyDeleteI might be in the minority here but I like a slow rise in action. For me, a first chapter’s job is to make me care about the characters. If the character is thrown into a crazy situation before I care enough about them to want to know more, then I feel disconnected for the rest of the read. There should be a hint of tension, discontent, mystery, etc—but I’m fine if a body doesn’t drop until page 80 if it means I thoroughly care about the character and their situation by that time!
ReplyDelete