6 Dialogue Openings: Stats, Thoughts & Tips
By Kathryn Craft | January 9, 2025 |
photo adapted / Horia Varlan
The challenge for a novel’s first line is to begin orienting the reader to the story while also raising a question that inspires them to read the next line. Adding quotation marks around that sentence shines an additional spotlight that signals the reader to pay attention—”This will be important.”
That’s a lot of pressure to put on a sentence.
From the manuscripts I see in development, I suspect more writers try dialogue openings than can actually pull them off. While perusing my stacks for published examples, I set aside those that quoted only one word or name that could easily have been left off. One opened with an unremarkable question: “How was school?” (The reply: “Good.” Can you name this novel? I thought not.) In the end, only the following few dialogue openings—representing only 3% of the novels on my shelves—rose to the level of “mad skills.” Let’s see what they have to offer us.
Charlotte’s Web by E.B. White (1952)
Since I suspect middle-grade novels make use of this technique more often, I’ll start with one of the most iconic dialogue openings of all time. If you read this one when you were young, or read it aloud to your children, I’d bet you still remember its opening.
“Where’s Papa going with that ax?” said Fern to her mother as they were setting the table for breakfast.
“Out to the hoghouse,” said Mrs. Arable. “Some pigs were born last night.”
“I don’t see why he needs an ax,” said Fern, who was only eight.
While the dialogue continues a bit further, these few lines meet the demands of the opening: we are oriented to the setting and a question has been raised about a quickly devolving situation. Bonuses: stakes are suggested (the loss of a piglet’s life and a girl’s innocence), the reader is allowed to “see” more than young Fern does, and—at least among those who aren’t pig farmers—the reader is quickly infused with a sense of dread.
Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card (1985)
The dialogue opening to this middle-grade novel sits beneath the Chapter One title, “Third.”
“I’ve watched through his eyes, I’ve listened through his ears, and I tell you he’s the one. Or at least as close as we’re going to get.”
“That’s what you said about the brother.”
“The brother tested out impossible. For other reasons. Nothing to do with his ability.”
“Same with the sister. And there are doubts about him. He’s too malleable. Too willing to submerge himself in someone else’s will.”
“Not if the other person is his enemy.”
“So what do we do? Surround him with enemies all the time?”
“If we have to.”
“I thought you said you liked this kid.”
“If the buggers get him, they’ll make me look like his favorite uncle.”
“All right. We’re saving the world after all. Take him.”
This is audacious, right? Floating voices, no named characters we can later recognize, no orientation as to where and when we are—and yet we recognize these remarks as coming from a jury of elders discussing a boy’s future. That creepy first line cranks up tension from the get-go, so many questions about the siblings point toward future plot, and the high stakes for the boy in question are underscored by the goal of saving the world.
The Other Woman by Hank Phillippi Ryan (2012)
Dialogue openings are sometimes used in adult novels as well, as in the opening to this thriller:
“Get that light out of my face! And get behind the tape. All of you. Now.”
The next sentence tells us who is speaking: Detective Jake Brogan pointed his own flashlight at the pack of reporters, its cold glow highlighting one news-greedy face after another in the October darkness.
This dialogue builds Brogan’s characterization as a take-charge guy hoping to establish order in a chaotic situation. The “get behind the tape” raises genre expectation by making the reader wonder what kind of crime this is, inviting their participation in the story.
The Thorns of Truth by Eileen Goudge (1998)
“Mom, what would you think about Drew and me getting married?”
Avid readers of domestic fiction will read on because they’ll already know the reply to this question will not be “Good.” My interest wasn’t fully secured, though, until I read the mom’s reaction in the next line:
Rachel Rosenthal McClanahan didn’t so much hear as feel her daughter’s question: like a sharp tap between her shoulder blades. She’d been struggling with the clasp on the pearl choker Brian had given her last Hanukkah, and now stood frozen before the round mirror above her Art Deco vanity, arms upraised like wings, her reflection stark as an exclamation point in her fitted black dress.
A question that taps between the shoulder blades. Choker, vanity, frozen wings, a fitted dress like an exclamation point. These details convinced me that Rachel Rosenthal McClanahan—and I—were in the hands of a confident wordsmith and thought-provoking storyteller.
Good in Bed by Jennifer Weiner (2001)
This dialogue may be comprised of unremarkable words, but watch how the presence of subtext, known only to Samantha, cranks up tension in this dialogue opening.
“Have you seen it?” asked Samantha.
I leaned close to my computer so my editor wouldn’t hear me on a personal call.
“Seen what?”
“Oh, nothing. Never mind. We’ll talk when you get home.”
“Seen what?” I asked again.
“Nothing,” Sam repeated.
“Samantha, you have never once called me in the middle of the day about nothing. Now come on. Spill.”
Samantha sighed. “Okay, but remember: Don’t shoot the messenger.”
Now I was getting worried.
“Moxie. The new issue. Cannie, you have to go get one right now.”
“Why? What’s up? Am I one of the Fashion Faux Pas?”
“Just go to the lobby and get it. I’ll hold.”
This was important Samantha was, in addition to being my best friend, also an associate at Lewis, Dommel, and Fenick. Smanatha put people on hold, or had her assistant tell them she was in a meeting. Samantha herself did not hold.
The direct address in this opening question does a bit of subtle trickery: since the reader hasn’t seen “it,” she’ll want to know what “it” is. Especially after that Oh never mind, I wanted to know what Cannie was going to find in that issue of Moxie and how it would impact her.
The Missing World by Margot Livesey (2000)
Rather than start with quotation marks, Livesey takes a sentence to set the scene and tone for the dialogue.
They were quarrelling on the phone when it happened, although anyone overhearing them might easily have failed to detect the fury that lay behind their pragmatic sentences. “I don’t see why you need to bother Mrs. Craig,” Hazel said, “about a leak in your study.”
“But my hunch,” said Jonathan, “is that the water’s getting in though her roof as well as ours. No use fixing one without the other.”
He was standing beside the window, tugging at the dusty leaves of the indomitable cheese plant. Since Hazel’s flight the other plants had, one by one, succumbed to his lack of care and now sat, brown and desiccated, on windowsills and tables. This monster, however, almost as tall as he was with its perforated leaves and hairy roots groping from the lower stems, had not merely survived his abuse but positively thrived. In the midst of his struggle with Hazel, he found time to apostrophise [Brit.] his old enemy. Die, you bugger, he thought, and shredded a leaf.
That Hazel has already left him, that he needlessly calls to reel her in with home repairs, that he begs the one living thing that can stand up to his abuse to die—the accumulative effect here plunges us into the tug of wills in this relationship, making us wonder what’s behind this man’s desperate need to be Hazel’s hero once the inciting incident sideswipes Hazel in the third paragraph. At that point, the story is off and running.
Techniques to try
Want to rise to the extreme challenge of a dialogue opening? If so, it’s yours to earn. Here are a few tips to help you keep from throwing away your novel’s most precious real estate:
- Use dialogue that’s both distinctive and evocative—and worthy of the incredible spotlight you are shining upon it.
- Make sure the dialogue helps orient the reader to the nature of your novel’s core conflict.
- Allow spoken words to reveal character.
- Avoid the biggest objection readers have to a dialogue opening—the inability to conjure context while not yet knowing the speakers or their situation— by providing contextual clues.
- Tap into preset expectations by establishing genre.
- Assert each character’s motivation for entering this dialogue.
- Be mindful of pace, as back-and-forth dialogue along with its associated white space can, while reeling in the reader, also speed things up to the point that the reader might miss important contextual clues. Adding actions and setting details can enrich the dialogue and establish a more measured introduction the story.
- As in any opening, base your choices on what the protagonist wants, not what you-as-author think the reader should know.
Finally, note the publication dates of my excerpts—while my “stacks” are certainly not exhaustive, the most recent example I owned was from 2012. While this might suggest that dialogue openings have fallen out of favor, in a creative form where anything is possible if it works well, that trend could change at any time—and might be a way for you to make your mark!
Please share any favorite dialogue openings, especially if recent. If you’ve tried one, did you keep it, in the end? If you want a prompt to share: try rewriting the opening of your WIP in dialogue. If nothing else, it might help you clarify its opening conflict, and urge you write punchier, more succinct dialogue.
Kathryn Craft (she/her) is the author of two novels from Sourcebooks, The Art of Falling and The Far End of Happy. Her forthcoming book, Crafting Story Movement: Techniques to Engage Readers and Drive Your Novel Forward, draws from decades of experience as both a story consultant and a movement specialist/dance critic. Learn more on Kathryn’s website.
[coffee]
Hello Kathryn. Thanks for devoting your post to dialogue used at beginnings. I’m a big fan of dialogue openings, and have used them several times in my novels. The one I know best is my latest novel, Someone Better Than You. Here’s how it goes:
“I suppose you’ll be all right.”
Surprised to be spoken to, Brady Ritz turns to his stepdaughter. “Of course I will,” he says. “Your old stepdad’s a hurricane survivor.” Your old stepdad is meant to generate sympathy, but Jane has already turned away. Now she’s fiddling with the collar on Madison’s preppy polo. Give the kid a puppy and a fishing pole, and she can model for the next L.L.Bean catalogue.
But what’s actually on Ritz’s mind is how Jane has stopped calling him Daddy. He’s her stepfather, and she is thirty-two, but Jane has always called him that. Really, he thinks watching her, what would it cost you?
My goal is to generate curiosity in the reader, questions related to this exchange between stepfather and stepdaughter. Why is Brady Ritz surprised to be spoken to? Why is he apparently annoyed with Jane turning away from him to attend to Madison, her little girl? Why has Jane stopped calling him Daddy? If I’ve succeeded, the reader is already asking, “What’s going on here?” She will find out pretty soon, but not just yet.
Thanks so much for sharing this, Barry.
This certainly sets up some intergenerational tension, and raises all the questions you mention. This dialogue opening is great for setting up a novel based on these relationships.
May your novel grace many shelves for future posts on dialogue openings!
Kathryn, this mix of diverse examples really drew me in as well as your summary of why they worked–and how we can apply techniques of our own. Techniques to be honed in and used deftly for sure, if using a dialogue opening! OR even considering one. Consider carefully!
I hadn’t recalled having a dialogue opening in one of my books but was just recently made aware that I did indeed have one in my middle grade book, Joshua and the Arrow Realm, with this:
“On your mark. Get set. Go!” We hurtled down the crusty ice-covered slope under a midnight moon. Charlie raced the faster sled, but I knew every dip and bump of this hill.
In reviewing your list of techniques, I see some are achieved this opening but not all. I wish I could go back in time and see my thoughts behind this dialogue opening. With writing for MG and for adults, I see dialogue openings more often used in children’s books. Perhaps it’s more easily forgiven when it comes to younger audiences? (at least, I hope so :)
I doubt the rather generic quote would turn a middle-grader away, but “We hurtled down the crusty ice-covered slope under a midnight moon” grabs me more! Thanks for reading, Donna!
“In animal life the weak are quickly disposed of.”
This is the first line of The Gravedigger’s Daughter by Joyce Carol Oates, 2007. It was enough to get me to start reading the very long novel, which I finished.
Thanks for the reminder, Tina! I lived that novel.
…and there you have it, my most common fat-finger mistake! Thank goodness I didn’t live it, but I did love it!
I thought lived was a compliment to the author. I lived so many novels as a child.
Excellent post, Kathryn. Very useful. I recently reworked a short story to include only dialogue. This is what I came up with:
“Your sign says you’re a certified palmist, Honora. Are you a psychic?”
“If you mean, do I tell the future? No. Lines on your palm don’t determine your life. Your life determines your lines. I interpret the lines and offer guidance based on what I see.”
“What do you see then?”
“I see your personal qualities, the state of your mind and soul. Things that are hidden from conscious awareness.”
“Who are you certified by?”
“The American Academy of Hand Analysis.”
“Of course. How much do you charge? I don’t see anything.”
“I don’t ask for money. I do accept donations, if you feel so inclined. And since I’m paying Danners Grove Fair on the Square Inc. $125 for this booth, I hope you do.”
“I’ve packed up myself. I consider the fee an expensive lesson in marketing. Namely, that people who line up for the thrill of sitting behind the wheel of an F-250 MegaRaptor monster truck are not my target audience.”
My goal was to establish the setting, give a hint of the characters, and indicate their relationship to each other. And of course, interest the reader enough to keep reading.
Hi Christine, thanks for your kind words.
What a fun exercise! Your goals for the opening are sound, and orientation to character and setting is always welcomed by the reader. But if you look at the opening few lines with fresh eyes, you’ll see they are all information delivery. While that is a possible use for dialogue, for sure, it’s one of the weakest in an opening. It smacks of author goals, which are always less compel than character goals. No questions are raised.
Note that in Weiner’s example, she opens with a question: “Have you seen it?” This offers a little orientation—Sam has the goal of seeing if Cannie is okay, given the situation “it” might cause—and it raises a question for the reader, who wonders what “it” is.
As written, your POV character is delivering info the palmist already has—she knows what her sign says. And why is this palmist forking over this info? What’s her perspective?
Starting in the palmist’s voice, for instance, she might challenge the other person with a declaration that reveals her talent.
“You aren’t a believer.” [Q: believer in what?]
“That depends on whether what you tell me actually comes true.” [Q: can this person really tell fortunes? What is it this “non-believer” needs to know do badly that she’ll swallow her pride?]
“You won’t find out today. I closed three minutes ago.” [a challenge: will she be able to find out?]
“And yet you answered your door.” [setting orientation plus Q: why did she answer the door just to turn her away? Has she gotten in trouble with non-believers before? Is the palmist desperate too, for money?]
Now, the reader is certain the first woman reads both palms and skepticism, the second speaker is desperate to know something, and the first speaker has a reason to humor her. The reader doesn’t know exactly what those goals are, but the goals are clearly character-driven, not author-driven, and therefore energize the scene—and raise questions that will pull the reader deeper into the scene.
Something to think about!
Thanks, Kathryn! I plan to enter this story in a writing contest and really appreciate the critique. I do need to get more work out of the characters’ exchange.
Love this sharp analysis, Kathryn–sharing in my newsletter!
Thanks Tiffany!
This blog post about writing opening lines with dialogue is brilliant. If not a bit intimidating. It seems to me if you’re going to have your opening line be dialogue, it better be darn grabbing. So hard to come up with them.
For now, I think I’ll remain shy about opening with dialogue until the day such an opening comes to me of its own accord. If that happens, I’ll be much more open to using it, thanks to reading this ( ;
When you’re woken at 4am by someone hammering their fists on your front gate, like they’re trying to totally smash it off its hinges, you know this isn’t going to be good.
When they’re shouting your name over and over, ‘Joel! Joel!’, you know this is going to be personal. When you recognize the voice as your dad’s best friend, and he’s supposed to be over the border in Balkhistan with your dad, chasing a civil war news story, you’re sure, the second you wake, that this is really, really bad.
Thank you for this post. I enjoyed the diverse examples, and they were very instructive. The above is the opening of my YA novel, which I am currently editing.
Kathryn, I’m loving your series of posts on openings! Once again, you’ve rescued me. Like Livesey, I’ve started my WIP with a sentence for context (and I hope a hint at the story question), followed by a bit of unusual dialogue. I’ve been doubting myself a lot. We put so much emphasis on that opening sentence, and I’ve been afraid that dialogue just won’t suffice.
Mine still might not be enough :D but you’ve given me some tools and questions to better evaluate it. And reassurance that dialogue openings CAN work. I’m going back to my bookshelves to see what other novels I’ve liked start with dialogue and figure out why they work. Thank you!
Hi Barbara, I’m sure you’ll benefit in many ways from your dialogue opening study, and I’m glad that Livesey and I were able to point the way. Thanks for letting me know what you’re up to—and good luck!