If I were to start a collection of Opening Lines, I’d grab this one first:
“It was a dark, blustery afternoon in spring, and the city of London was chasing a small mining town across the dried-out bed of the old North Sea.”
It’s a belter.
“They do say” that the best opening lines should ask questions. Well: how many questions do you want??
How can London move (and fast enough to chase something)?
Why a small mining town? And what would be its fate if caught?
What dreadful disaster had dried-out the whole North Sea?
And finally, perhaps without realising it, we’re wondering why this spring afternoon is dark. Although there are plenty of dark days in spring in real life, we’re taught from an early age to think of spring as a time of light.
“They do say” also that the first line should be to the story what a tiny fragment of hologram glass is to the complete plate: a glimpse into the whole tale – of what the reader is letting themselves in for.
But there’s more.
When I picked up a copy of Philip Reeve’s “Mortal Engines” and read that first sentence I recalled another famous opener:
“It was a bright, cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen.”
Clocks don’t strike thirteen, and April’s supposed to be warm: what’s up?
And to think that “They do say” you should never open a story with the weather…
In Surreal Time 