Hook Us: The Art of a Great First Sentence

I’ve read a lot of first sentences—as a reader, writer, writing instructor, and associate fiction editor here at Pangyrus. The opening line of Lorrie Moore’s 1985 story “How to Become a Writer Or, Have You Earned This Cliche” is one of my favorites: “First, try to be something, anything, else.”

Gah! There is so much packed into those seven words. We get voice, tone, and attitude all at once. The wry humor, the implied struggle, the utter exhaustion of someone who has faced the challenges of the writing life—it’s all there. In fewer than ten words, Moore establishes not only the narrator’s perspective but also the story’s entire premise: that writing is something you might want to avoid. The second person point of view invites the reader into an instructive mode, setting up a playful yet acerbic voice. More than anything, this first sentence makes you want to keep reading.

Let’s also look at Danielle Evans’s more recent story “Anything Could Disappear” from her second collection, The Office of Historical Corrections. The opening line? “Vera was moving to New York on a Greyhound bus, carrying only a duffel bag.”
Consider all the riches we get in this one sentence:

– We meet the main character. (Vera)

– We catch her in a moment of great change. (moving)

– We get specifics about her mode of travel. (Greyhound bus)

– We discover she is moving with a single piece of luggage. (Who does that?)

– And we glimpse a key object that will help move the story forward. (duffel bag)

Once we acknowledge the facts, we can think more deeply about Vera’s situation. Her movement suggests instability, the Greyhound hints at financial constraints, and the duffel bag indicates a sparse existence. Without telling us explicitly, this sentence lets us know that this will be a story about transition, uncertainty, and perhaps, reinvention. It hooks us and makes a promise—keep reading and the journey ahead will be worth it.

When you submit to Pangyrus (or any literary magazine), you’re competing for attention—often against hundreds of others. A compelling first sentence signals confidence, control, and a deep understanding of storytelling. It tells us, the editors, that you know exactly where your story begins and why. Want your story to rise to the top? Start strong. Make us lean in. Give us a line that lingers.

— Kristin Bair, Associate Fiction Editor

 

Image: Mike Tinnion, unsplash.com, licensed under CC2.0.