Books: First Lines Fridays 6th February 2025
Some opening lines announce themselves loudly. Others whisper, hesitate, cross themselves out, and try again. This week’s First Lines Fridays choice does something rather clever—it lets us peek behind the curtain at the very moment words are being wrestled into existence. There’s doubt, determination, and a deep love of language woven into these first paragraphs, making them feel both intimate and quietly powerful.
Without naming names just yet, this is an opening that will feel instantly familiar to lovers of classic literature, while still offering something fresh and reflective. It invites you not just to read a story, but to witness the act of storytelling itself. So, settle in, read closely, and see if these opening lines spark recognition—or curiosity—before the reveal below.
What is First Lines Fridays?
First Lines Fridays is a weekly feature for book lovers hosted by Wandering Words. What if instead of judging a book by its cover, its author or its prestige, we judged it by its opening lines?
- Pick a book off your shelf (it could be your current read or on your TBR) and open to the first page
- Copy the first few lines, but don’t give anything else about the book away just yet – you need to hook the reader first
- Finally… reveal the book!
My Pick For This Week
The first lines of the book:
It is a true thing everyone knows that— I scratch out the words, dip my pen into the well of ink, and try again. It’s not the first time I’ve scribbled and scratched, obliterating one word or phrase while searching for another. I long for the correct word, the indisputable one-and-only connection of words that will capture the essence of my intention. Yet these unfound words tease me by hiding in the shadows of my mind, just out of reach, being naughty and bothersome and— Aha! I quickly put pen to paper, eager to capture the phrase before it returns to hiding: It is a truth universally acknowledged . . . Yes, yes, that is the phrase that’s eluded me. I dip the pen again, finally ready to complete the part of the sentence that has never been in question. . . . that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. I sit back in my chair, feeling absurdly prideful that I’ve completed this one line. And yet, it’s an important line. The first line of a book. Actually, it’s not a book yet. Would it ever by chance be a book?
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And the book is...
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