Good opening Lines for a StoryA good opening line for a story
I had a dream last I was talking to my granddaughter again. If you have plotted the story perfectly or suffer from a writer's death lock, you still have to type this first line. You can use our opening line tools above to get inspired, get going. It' great for fiction, shorts and the first line of dialog in a film or theatrical work.
Ideas for short stories - first lines
A good line of a story is very important, a good one can inspire the readers to continue reading. One faint first line and they could tell your story. At times it is simpler to complete the whole story, then go back and reread the first line because you know how it fits the other part.
On other occasions it is the first line that inspired the story and this page can help you find a first line that will stimulate your fantasy and get your story off to a great flying start. Here you can find all the information you need.
Headline-Opening Top 25 Killer
Browse to open a notebook and select the author's pick-up line. "If I give you your dough, will you be my friend?", an opening series of "It was a murky and turbulent night." Whilst the first put a piece in my pocket? website, the second was an often derided and parodyed statement by the English writer Edward Bulwer-Lytton in the opening movement of his 1830 novel Paul Clifford.
Phrases are regarded as "the archetypical example of a floral, tuneful and dramatic way of writing", also known as lilac-prosa. So what is it about the first line of a story that makes the readers more? Is it the flawless mixture of humour and styles, or maybe a little scheming?
This is a small selection of our web pages at ?the, from classical literature to fairy tale, which let us turn the pages over and come back again. It' s a generally accepted fact that a man in possessing happiness needs a woman. This was the best of all time, it was the most terrible of all time, it was the era of folly, it was the era of folly, it was the era of unbelief, it was the time of light, it was the time of darkness, it was the vernalty of hopes, it was the winters of doom.
This was a gloomy and turbulent evening; the rains dropped in rapids, except occasionally when it was controlled by a strong breeze of winds that blew up the roads (for our London scenes are located), clattering along the top of the house and arousing the sparse flames of the lights that fought the dim.