Is Fast Paced Always Good?

First, let me emphasize that I liked the beginning of Graceling.  In fact, I wrote an entire entry explaining why I liked it. So this is not about what Graceling did right or wrong,  but rather the tradeoffs we make when going from one set of storytelling conventions to the other.



A while ago, I wrote a guest post at  Guide to Literary Agents on seven reasons agents stop reading your first chapter. Reason number 2 was "slow beginnings."  Some manuscripts start with too much pedestrian detail and unnecessary background information, losing the reader.

Upon reading the article, my husband (astronomer and literary snob J. Blackburne) asked me, “But what about all the old classics that begin really slowly?” I told him that many classics would not be published in today's market. He said that was dumb. I said he was dumb.  And we continued with dinner preparations.*

That discussion didn't bother me that much.  While I do enjoy some classics, and while I appreciate the literary value of all of them in principle, when I actually sit down and try to slog my way through 30+ introductory pages about a clergyman who isn't even a main character**, I get impatient and  reach for Stephenie Meyer Harry Potter the latest Newbury winner***.

It wasn't until I started thinking about Graceling for my blog that the conversation came back to mind.  Graceling’s beginning is well done in the modern sense. It begins with action at a point of change, grabbing the reader and engaging them right away.

The book is about Katsa, a girl graced with an ability to kill, who grew up as a thug for the King because of her deadly talent. The narrative opens at a point of change, as Katsa begins to realize she doesn’t have to be under her uncle’s control. A major character arc involves her gradual realization that she’s not the savage she always thought, but someone who can choose to do good.

While I appreciated this change in Katsa, I don’t think I experienced it to its full potential. Why? Because the story started with Katsa at the point of change. When I met Katsa, she was already making her first steps of rebellion against her uncle. With the exception of a few flashbacks, I never saw those years when she was doing his dirty work, torturing  and killing people. Therefore, when she wondered whether her past crimes made her a monster, my reaction was, “What are you talking about? I’ve only seen you perform good and heroic acts.”

Would my experience as a reader have been different if Graceling had been written under a different set of expectations for plotting and pace?  What if it had been written in an era where it was okay to just spend time with the character without advancing the plot?  Could I have met her earlier, and thus appreciated her transformation more?

What do you think? Are we losing out on parts of the story because of the fast paced modern novel?

*As you can tell, we're madly in love.
**I know, I know, it's really good.  I'll try again to read it at some point...
*** Don't judge me.

Three Ways the Opening of Graceling Draws the Reader In

I recently attended Kristin Cashore's reading of Fire at the Harvard Bookstore. Afterwards, I bought a copy of Graceling and started reading it as I waited in the signing line.  By the time my turn arrived, I was hooked.  Cashore does a great job of engaging the reader right away. Here's why I think it effectively drew me in:



1.  The story starts with movement.

In these dungeons the darkness was complete, but Katsa had a map in her mind.  One that had so far proven correct, as Oll's maps tended to do.  Katsa ran her hand along the cold walls and counted doors and passageways as she went...

The opening paragraph puts us in the middle of something interesting --  a heroine running through a dungeon.  A few paragraphs later, she single handedly defeats 5 dungeon guards.   Intriguing.  I wanted to know more.

2.  The opening establishes the main character as worth rooting for.

...Oll and Giddon, and most of the rest of the secret Council, had wanted her to kill [the dungeon guards].  But at the meeting to plan this mission, she'd argued that killing them would gain no time. . . . 
She wouldn't kill, not if she didn't have to.  A killing couldn't be undone, and she'd killed enough....

For a reader to invest several hours in a character, he has to be convinced that the character is worth rooting for.  Given that our first impression of Katsa is fairly violent, it's not clear immediately whether she is likeable or sympathetic.  Therefore,  it was helpful for Cashore to establish early on that Katsa, though deadly, has principles and sticks to them.

3.  There is a Sexy Mysterious Guy on page 12 -- ahem, I mean --  It ends with a mystery.



...She caught the fall of every leaf in the garden, the rustle of every branch.  And so she was astonished when a man stepped out of the darkness and grabbed her from behind.  He wrapped his arm around her chest and held a knife to her throat.  He started to speak, but in an instant she had deadened his arm, wrenched the knife from his hand, and thrown the blade to the ground.  She flung him forward, over her shoulder.
He landed on his feet.

We spent the first few pages watching Katsa beating multiple armed men senseless with her bare hands. Now someone manages to sneak up on superhuman Katsa without her knowing, and when she throws him, he lands on his feet? Who is this guy? The scene ends without revealing the mystery man's identity, an I keep reading to find out more.


In your story openings, do you give thought to drawing the reader in?  What are your strategies?