Start a scene or chapter with a conversation or argument rather than a description or narrative.
Why?
It gets your writing out of
the starting gate quickly. Remember: this is your draft. It’s not the final
product, and you can always go back later and adjust. This is simply a technique to get the blank page/screen
filled up and your fingers moving across the keyboard.
At this point momentum = accomplishment.
Another aspect
Starting with characters exchanging words draws the reader in quickly. It doesn’t have to be a long conversation, but
in a few brief exchanges, aspects of the main character can be revealed. Show, don't tell.
This is the opening scene from my contemporary romance, Love Long Overdue. The main female character is Gina, and she's grabbing a quick lunch with her BFF, Julie.
* * *
"So, did you hear about the new librarian?"
"What happened to the old one?"
"Helloooo? Remember I told you she retired just before the holidays last year."
Gina Bradshaw munched on her chicken caesar wrap, keeping one eye on a lazy fly that kept circling her plate. "Hmmm, no, can't say I remember that. But then again I'm not at the library that often. Actually, never, now that I think about it." Who had time these days, working two part-time jobs to make ends meet? Which didn't leave her much time for reading. She was lucky if she remembered to DVR her favorite television series.
Her best friend Julie glanced over at her, eyes squinting in deep thought. "You work too hard."
Gina laughed, wiping a dollop of dressing from her chin. "You're right. So who's the new lady librarian?" She downed her ice tea. God, who knew it would be this hot in May, especially on Cape Cod where the ocean breezes usually didn't warm up until later in June.
"Ha, no lady -- it's a guy."
“Get out. A guy? Must be an old fuddy-duddy, absent-minded professor type, uh?" Gina stretched out her long legs, noting how pale they looked in the midday sunlight, wondering if she could squeak in a few tanning sessions between jobs. Probably not; better to just keep wearing jeans and long skirts. It'd be cheaper, too.
Julie poked her with a hot pink fake finger nail. "Nope, got that wrong. He's hot. Very hot.”
"On a scale, one to ten?" Their measuring system for prospective victims, although it never seemed to be accurate. How many times had they given a guy the "hot" or "very hot" rating, only to find out he was a dud, a doofus, a big fat zero.
"Most definitely an eight; maybe even a nine." Julie stretched out her legs after finishing off the cheeseburger and fries. Even though her legs were short, they were so tan they made Gina’s eyes water. But then again, Julie was rolling in dough, her salon and spa business the busiest place in town. It was the local watering hole for most of the women over twenty, a place where you could hunt and gather gossip, learn tips about who to date and who to avoid like the plague, and indulge in a free glass of wine after three o'clock most afternoons.
"And what makes him so great?" Gina watched as a fishing boat pulled into the harbor, a few seals following in its wake, hoping for the cast-offs. She recognized the boat and spotted Hank steering inside the small cabin. Her current on-again, off-again beau. Good looking but not too much upstairs. A beer and Boston Celtics kind of guy, which was all right with her. For now, anyway. She couldn't handle anything deeper at the moment. She wondered if her libido was running on empty. Two jobs and college loans to pay off could do that to a girl. Except she wasn’t a ‘girl’ any longer. Closing in on the mid-thirties mark, she figured she was nearing the status of crone.
Julie signaled for the check and a refill on her coffee. She looked over at Gina, and Gina started to break a sweat. Julie had a way about her that unnerved her more times than she liked to admit. Her stare was like a laser, picking up on all her ticks and twitches, when she was due for her period, or a highlighting of her somewhat dull brown hair.
"Get this -- he's from Scotland, thirty-six, tall, dark hair, blue eyes. How’s that for breaking the stereotype, uh?"
"Name?" Gina’s mind was abuzz, trying to picture a tall, dark, brooding Scotsman. She wondered if he wore a kilt. Every woman in the world probably wonders what’s under the kilt. Definitely crunch time for that tanning parlor, she thought.
Julie closed her eyes for a second, conjuring up the guy's name. Obviously, she'd spent too much time taking inventory of his physical aspects to remember his name. Which made Gina wonder how many women in this small town had done the same already. Where had she been during all this brouhaha?
"Adam. Adam Cameron." There was that laser stare of hers again. Gina kept her head averted and her eyes on the fishing boat, then waved to Hank when he looked up and spotted her. He gave her that half-grin that used to make her heart beat faster, but now it just kept thudding steadily in her chest. Thump, thump, thump. Slow and steady. Visions of muscular legs and a kilt interfered with her slowly thumping heart.
"Adam Cameron," she whispered, liking the way it sounded, the way the name rolled off her tongue. Gina slapped her legs, stood up and stretched to her full five foot, ten inch height, flipping the thick rope of braid over her shoulder. Riding a bike around town in this heat required that masses of hair must be relegated to a braid or she'd internally combust. "I think it's time I renewed my library card," she chirped, wanting to hit the road before Hank headed their way. Not that she was avoiding him. But then again there was a new guy to investigate, possibly with a kilt.
* * *
Quick banter, inner thoughts . . . the reader learns quite a bit about Gina within the first few paragraphs without being overloaded with backstory.
Stay Tuned for Next Week
I'll share a quick tip (or two) that helped me stumble over another writing hurdle. In the meantime, write on, eat healthy, hydrate and go for a walk in the fresh air!
Happy Writing!
Claire H.
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