“It was a dark and stormy
night …”
This famous hook (opener), from Edward
Bulwer-Lytton’s novel Paul Clifford, grabs the reader like a hook grabbing a
fish.
That’s what hooks do. Hooks are found in
stories and books, in poetry and music, even in advertising: most of us have
been reeled in by “Two all beef patties …” (you know the rest). Hooks are found
everywhere, not just in Canadian Tire’s sporting goods section.
With “It was a dark and stormy night …” the
reader is reeled in by suspense, mystery, danger, something foreboding. The
outline of trees sways as black clouds loom, stirring. The wind sweeps and
rattles and agitates. Close your eyes and you’re there, in the scent of the
brewing storm, acutely aware of every sound amplified by the darkness.
The bait on a hook can be mystery, intrigue,
something humorous or an absurd thought. Or it could be a command or a question
— or a single word such as “Choices”.
Dickens’ Bleak House opens with “London” and the
reader is on the hook. The unassuming word invokes drama: What about London? What happened in London? See how a word can
captivate … intrigue?
“Looking for a flatshare, are you?” is the
opener of Patricia Robertson’s After Annabel, from her collection, The Goldfish
Dancer: Stories
and Novellas.
A question is an excellent hook. First off,
what’s a “flatshare”? And secondly, who’s looking for it? Like a spark igniting
a flame, a question ignites more questions. The reader is propelled forward.
“What a wild, reckless, wilful invention?”
The words won’t let you go — not until you know what is wild, reckless and
wilful. This hook is from Karen Elizabeth Gordon’s The New Well-Tempered
Sentence, an
entertaining read about punctuation. Gordon’s Deluxe Transitive Vampire is a playful Gothic exposé of
grammar.
There are hooks that are quotes and hooks
that are misquotes. Bill Walsh, copy editor for the Washington Post, reels the reader in with his
title/misquote, Lapsing into a Comma.
Once readers are hooked, they must be kept
engaged (this kind of fishing is not “catch and release”): the hook must lead
to the “meat” of the story, then to its satisfying conclusion.
“Cigarette smoke circled a cluster of men
and me” is the hook Eleanor Millard uses from her recently published novel Journey’s
Outside and In.
Smoke encircles a cluster of men and someone (but, who?). Who is with the men? Is that person in
danger? Why are they there?
OK, it’s time to fish. Bait your hooks with
an interjection (Alas!), a question, a challenge, a word, a sentence that shows
instead of telling, an absurd thought or a quote or misquote.
Practise writing hooks. They may be the
inspiration needed for stories.
And, do some investigating: look for hooks
on your bookshelves at home or on shelves at your local library.
Check out Hook ‘Em Fast and Don’t Let Go at www.thewritersbuzz.com.