Great Beginnings: Inviting the Reader to Enter

By Ronnie Blair






Writing an essay about great beginnings is intimidating because readers expect you to start the essay with a great beginning. Failing that you are tempted to retreat and go in search of another, safer, simpler topic. Quantum physics, perhaps.



But failure happens often in writing and other endeavors, so the other alternative is to plunge ahead regardless, which is what I shall do now.



Writers are well versed in the concept of writing a lead (or lede, as some journalists spell it) that grabs readers and compels them to learn what comes next. But understanding the concept and pulling it off are different matters entirely. And even if you’ve done it once, twice, or 300 times, it’s a struggle the next time. This is why the delete key is a formidable tool in the writer’s arsenal.



It also helps to have rules. I will share a few of mine, though I would caution anyone to never let rules get in the way of good writing. I call them rules, but consider them guidelines, helpful in getting you oriented but in no way restricting you when the muse whispers a stronger solution.



Rule No. 1 – Keep that first sentence short. Roughly 20 words is a good target, though, as I will demonstrate momentarily, longer sentences can work when the rhythm is right and the meaning clear.



Rule No. 2 – Don’t try to accomplish everything in one sentence. You may have eight excellent bits of wisdom to share, but resist the urge to preview every single one of them in your opening. Readers will feel like they are working their way through a maze rather than being given a taste of what is to come.



Rule No. 3 – It’s fine to start with an anecdote or description, but by the third or fourth paragraph the reader should begin to get an idea of what the piece is about. You drew them in. Now tell them why you drew them in.



Rule No. 4 – Don’t throw too many numbers at the reader all at once. Few people want to sit down to read an article or essay and immediately be forced to do math. (Business articles about earnings reports are perhaps the most susceptible to this failing.)



Rule No. 5 – Don’t be afraid to have fun. Your sense of humor is almost as good a writing tool as the delete key. Let it shine when the circumstances are right. Even serious topics (such as earnings reports) can do with a little levity every now and then.



Now let’s get right to ignoring the rules.



I present to you an essay titled “The Wild, Sublime Body” by Melissa Febos, which is included in The Best American Essays 2022 . Febos’ first sentence is about twice the length of our 20-word goal, but she pulls it off brilliantly.



“My mother had raised me vegetarian, and though I harbored no real desire to eat meat, sometimes, in summer, I would take a hunk of watermelon to a remote corner of our yard and pretend it was a fresh carcass.”



Febos invites you to imagine a child on a summer day, sitting on the lawn, enjoying a tasty slice of watermelon. And then she jars you with the sentence’s final two words: “fresh carcass.” Her opening sets the tone for her essay, and reveals a little about the vegetarian mother and her seemingly obedient daughter, who may harbor a rebellious spirit.



Sometimes in crafting a beginning we struggle because we have options. Should this be the lead, or should that?



The great World War II correspondent Ernie Pyle once wrote a piece titled The Death of Captain Waskow. This is how he began:



“In this war I have known a lot of officers who were loved and respected by the soldiers under them. But never have I crossed the trail of any man as beloved as Capt. Henry T. Waskow of Belton, Texas.”



Far be it from me to second guess Ernie Pyle, but six paragraphs in he paints a picture that easily could have worked as the lead:



“I was at the foot of the mule trail the night they brought Capt. Waskow’s body down. The moon was nearly full at the time, and you could see far up the trail, and even part way across the valley below. Soldiers made shadows in the moonlight as they walked.”



I think Pyle made the choice he did because his article is not really about the death of Captain Waskow. It is about how the men who served under Captain Waskow reacted to his death. If nothing else, Pyle reminds us that you aren’t finished after the lead. Entice the reader in paragraph six and beyond.



Sometimes, if you are lucky, the opening is just there waiting to be written.



Early in my newspaper career, an editor gave me this advice: “If God gives you a lead, don’t mess it up.” He meant that sometimes the subject is so compelling on its own merits that we don’t need to get clever. Just state the facts.



An example: In 1969, John Wilford Noble, a New York Times reporter, was given the extraordinary assignment of writing the newspaper’s lead story about the first moon landing. I imagine he had days, perhaps weeks, to ponder how he would begin his article about this momentous event.



I do not know if an editor ever told John Wilford Noble, “If God gives you a lead, don’t mess it up.” But he followed that advice nevertheless with this lead:



“Men have landed and walked on the moon.”



Just eight words, but a powerful beginning and one to match the moment. _______



Ronnie Blair is lead writer in public relations for Advantage Media and Forbes Books. Previously, he worked for daily newspapers for more than three decades. He is author of the memoir Eisenhower Babies: Growing Up on Moonshots, Comic Books, and Black-and-White TV .