In the beginning sections of a story, the first pages or chapters, the writer gives a promise to the reader about the nature of the story that they are about to read. There will be a hint of the genre, the pacing of the story, what the story is about, and the way the story will be told (the narrative construction). In fact, the reader should be fully aware of the nature of the story they are reading by the time they hit the 25% mark (or thereabouts)—ideally earlier. This doesn't mean that they should know 100% what the twists and turns will be, but they should know what the main story is and what sort of experience to expect.

If your story is going to be a high-octane thriller, then there needs to be action in those early scenes. If you are writing a sweet contemporary romance, then we should have met the main characters in this romantic coupling and already be able to see those sparks between the characters—even if they want to kill each other in the beginning. And if your story is going to contain religious or political overtones, then those overtones need to be present early too.

Today, I want to talk about the promises that we make to the reader with the opening pages of our books. It's the promise of the premise.

This is a long post compared to the other beasts that I write, but sometimes, things work out like that.

The premise is the foundational idea that expresses the plot of a story in simple terms.

If someone was to ask you what your story was about, can you tell them the conceptual idea in one or two sentences? Some people would call this your logline or the micro-pitch, but it's more than that.

The premise is the idea that gets conveyed in the first few moments of a film or the first few pages (or chapters) of a book. While we tend to say that a premise contains only one or two sentences, there is also subtext that conveys the genre, the narrative perspective used, any society issues tackled by the story, and the nature of the antagonist that the protagonist is fighting against. That is a lot of information to put into a few sentences, which is why writing loglines and micro-pitches is so hard. Thankfully, a novelist actually has pages (or chapters) to present the premise of a story.

Let's consider The Hunger Games.

The opening scene is of Katniss hunting a deer in the forest, a hunt that is interrupted by Gale. With the hunt interrupted, she returns to District 12, sneaking in through a hole in the security fence, and takes her hunting prizes to the markets in a decrepit building. She then returns home to prepare for the 'reaping'. And she has a discussion with her younger sister about how she is to not put her name into the 'reaping' poll more than what is legally required, because Katniss doesn't want her sister to face that brutality. In that opening sequence, we don't know what the 'reaping' really is or what the brutality is that Katniss fears so much, but we know that we're in a dystopian story where the citizens of District 12 are oppressed by the forces of the Capitol.

Because of the focus on Katniss in that first scene, we know from the onset that Katniss is going to find herself in the heart of some brutal contest fighting for her life. And because of the hunting sequence in the opening chapter, we also know that archery will play a role in her survival. So, when Katniss volunteers as tribute, taking the place of her younger sister, it's not a surprise, because this was a promise set by the premise.

Let's consider another example: Harry Potter.

The opening chapter is not of Harry at all. Instead, we meet Professor McGonagall as she talks to Professor Dumbledore about his crazy idea of leaving an infant in the care of "muggles". We don't know anything about the events that led this infant becoming an orphan, but we do know that he is now seen as a hero, even though he's only a year old. We don't need any of the scenes that follow to know that we're about to enjoy a fantasy story as a young boy learns to navigate the magical world that he's supposed to somehow save. In the premise, we are promised a coming-of-age story that combines with the hero's journey in a magical setting.

Both Harry Potter and The Hunger Games are wildly successful books (thanks in part to the movies). Most writers (and readers) have a concept of what these stories are about. They know the premise even if they haven't read the books.

The promises of the promo blurb might not match the promise of the opening pages.

For most of us looking for that next great read, we will peruse the digital bookshelves, reading the various blurbs to be found on Goodreads, Amazon, or the like. And occasionally, we'll see something that catches our attention. But what if the premise as defined by the opening pages is something that is entirely different to the promo materials for the book?

An example of this can be found in Synapse by Steven James.

I first encountered the thriller Synapse after a webinar I did through Sisters in Crime. The blurb on Amazon gave a sci-fi feeling that I just couldn't resist.

Thirty years in the future, when AI is so advanced that humans live side by side with cognizant robots called Artificials, Kestrel Hathaway must come to terms not just with what machines know, but what they believe.

Soon after experiencing a personal tragedy, Kestrel witnesses a terrorist attack and is drawn into a world of conspiracies and lies that she and Jordan, her Artificial, have to untangle. With a second, more brutal attack looming on the horizon, their best chance of stopping it is teaming up with federal counterterrorism agent Nick Vernon.

But the clock is ticking — and all the while, Jordan is asking questions that Artificials were never meant to ask.

A high-octane thriller where the main character wasn't law enforcement, encapsulated in a story with a near-future science fiction vibe… I was sooo there.

But when I started reading the opening pages, there was an element to the story that came to the surface that I wasn't expecting. In fact, it caught me completely off-guard, and I almost put the story down because of the disconnect between the opening pages and the blurb.

In the opening chapter, you discover that Kestrel (the main character) is actually a pastor for some church and was having a crisis of faith because she had lost her child in childbirth. She then witnesses an explosion at some important facility (I don't quite recall what it was) and she narrowly escapes getting caught in the explosion herself. And in the chapter after that, she meets the Artificial, named Jordan, that is to become her companion—and he starts asking a lot of annoying questions about free will. Kestrel does the best she can to answer Jordan's questions by quoting scripture passages that she's not sure that she believes in anymore.

In that opening sequence, I knew that I was reading a story that would be filled with high-octane action, but would also contain a theology discussion as Jordan explores his own humanity and Kestrel is forced to face her crisis of faith. The premise, as depicted by the actual writing, promised a story with religious overtones, something that doesn't come through in the promotional blurb. But because this information was provided to me as part of the story's premise, while we were still in the world-building phase of the book, I was prepared for the theological discussion when it finally showed up and was happy to keep reading.

Had the religious aspect of the book come out of the blue, with no warning in the premise, I would not have been a happy chappy. In fact, I would have likely been irked. (I love surprises in the stories I read, but I prefer those surprises to be in the form of plot twists, not fundamental narrative characteristics.)

There are countless examples out there where the promotional material promises one type of story, but the premise depicted by the opening pages includes other elements that the promo blurb didn't capture. Narrative writing style is part of that. However, a well-presented premise, combined with a writer's writing style, will allow readers to decide if they want to keep reading or not.

When the promise of the premise is not fulfilled, it leads to an unsatisfactory story.

The disconnect that can happen between promotional material and the actual writing is one thing, and as was the case with Synapse can often be averted with good solid writing that tells a good story. But sometimes a story fails to satisfy the reader for reasons that have nothing to do with the narrative writing style or the story itself. In fact, the story could have been a brilliant story, but for whatever reason, the story failed to meet reader expectations.

And the stories that meet with the grumpiest reader reactions are commonly stories that fail to fulfill the promise of the premise.

In the opening pages of a story, you are setting up the reader's expectations of what is to come—and you need to deliver. In those pages, you will be telegraphing the narrative style you have chosen to use, be that first-person, third-person limited, or omniscient. You are letting your readers know if you are going to be literary in your delivery or follow a more commercial genre structure. You're setting down hints of the genre, and you're introducing us to the main character(s). But you are also telling us what the story is going to be about—along with any social topics that might be addressed.

Those first few pages have a lot of work to do, which is just one of the many reasons why they are so hard to get right.

Creating a checklist for your opening pages based on your premise.

In looking through the examples above, I was able to construct a generalized premise from what was presented on the page, but as writers, we need to learn to go the other way: taking a premise to help construct the opening sequence to our stories.

For an example, let's take the manuscript that I'm currently writing (my personal writing project).

The story is about a woman who was trained to be an assassin but has no idea, because she's been brainwashed and drugged to forget that her training ever happened. But when she starts to hear voices, she thinks she's going crazy, until she discovers that she was actually a genetic experiment to increase brain function, giving her telepathic abilities. But the pharmaceutical companies are trying to cover up the experiments, killing the subjects of the experiment—and using her to do it.

There is a lot to this story that I'm still unpacking in my brain, but just that short description above provides a list of what the opening scenes need to achieve.

1. The story is clearly sci-fi (playing with genetics and pharmacology). So, that opening scene needs to show the reader how far into the future the story is set, which is something that is telegraphed by the setting and the technology used.
2. The main character is telepathic, even if she doesn't know anything about it (thank you, brainwashing and drugs). So there needs to be a moment where she is hearing strange voices, and she needs to question her sanity.
3. The main character is a sleeper assassin and doesn't know it, so the opening sequence should include her bad-ass skills—along with people dying. But when she reports to wherever she goes after she completes her missions, her memories are wiped of the event. (Hence, the sci-fi elements.)

That is just the requirements of the opening sequence based on the premise idea. But other early manuscript components would include things like the brainwashing or drugs not working properly and the main character starting to learn the truth about what the big pharmaceutical antagonist is doing. The events of the early manuscript need to lead to the high-action moments and some kick-ass-ery. There also needs to be a hint of who else knows the truth and what help she might get from the outside.

All of those elements don't need to be present from the onset in that initial draft. Many writers don't know what their story is about when they first sit down to write—that's what editing is for. But by the time that story is released to the public, all of those elements need to be present in the story premise.

Opening Sequence Checklist

As a quick checklist (because writers seem to love checklists), your opening pages need to convey the following aspects of the premise:

• Genre of story?
• Narrative style used?
• Whether any literary elements are used?
• Introduce the main character(s).
• Any social topics that might be addressed?
• And a general concept of what issues your protagonist might be facing (what the story is about)?

It's not easy, but if writing (or more appropriately rewriting and editing) was easy, then everyone would be writing.