You Have to Start Somewhere

Back in March I started a review of a short story at Little Big Crimes as follows:

What should the opening sentence of a short story do?  The only thing it must do is make you want to read the second sentence. But it can do so much more.  For instance:

* It can set the mood.

* It can tell you something about the plot.

* It can introduce one or more characters.

I then provided the first sentence of the story I was examining, "Come Forth and Be Glad in the Sun," by Mat Coward.

"Of all the people we have ever kidnapped, you are by far the rudest."

Lovely.  But thinking about what I wrote I remembered that way back in 2009 I and some of the other bloggers at Criminal Brief created lists of our favorite opening lines from our own short stories.  I decided to update it.  So here are some of my best opening gambits from 2010 on.

Stephen Shane's gun went off twice while he was cleaning it, accidentally killing his wife and her lover.

The best day of my life started when I got arrested.

What am I?

Dr. Rayford Mason Pantell, B.S., M.S., Ph.D., current holder of the Lorenzen Endowed Chair for Biology, stared down at the naked corpse of his graduate student, Natalie Corsuch.

I am often asked who is responsible for what the Fourth Estate refers to as my “career in crime.”

When Domici walked into the office , Coyle stepped out from behind the door and hit him with a sap.

The Encyclopedia of American Race Riots.

Sean was running late even before he ran into the corpse.

"What is it," Leopold Longshanks asked, "about women and bad boys?"

The drunk made a speech as he climbed on board the All Nighter bus, explaining at the top of his lungs that he was Patrick X. Sorley, multimillionaire hedge fund manager, and the first thing he was going to do bright and early the next day when he returned to his corner office high above Montgomery Street would be arrange for the firing of the bartender who had taken his car keys and then kicked him out after pouring only one more measly bourbon.

 When Randolph was six years old he discovered he could control gravity.

Tourists wandered down the Ramblas like sheep waiting to be fleeced. 

 Lorrimer didn't realize he was in a fight until the little man kicked him.

Leopold Longshanks blamed it on a terrorist plot.

"Here's the story," said the man who's name was probably not Richard.