On Writing Romance_ How to Craft a Novel That Sells - Leigh Michaels [51]
In her historical single title The Viscount Who Loved Me, author Julia Quinn effectively uses a prologue to explain an anomaly in her hero's character that makes him unwilling to fall in love:
Anthony Bridgerton had always known he would die young. ...
It happened when Anthony was eighteen. ...
Anthony stopped short when he saw Daphne. It was odd enough that his sister was sitting in the middle of the floor in the main hall. It was even more odd that she was crying. ...
"He's dead," Daphne whispered. "Papa is dead. ... He was stung by a bee. ..."
A man couldn't die from a bee sting. It was impossible. Utterly mad. Edmund Bridgerton was young, he was strong ... no insignificant honeybee could have felled him. ...
He walked into the room where his father's body still lay and looked at him. ...
And when he left the room, he left with a new vision of his own life, and new knowledge about his own mortality.
Edmund Bridgerton had died at the age of thirty-eight. And Anthony simply couldn't imagine ever surpassing his father in any way, even in years.
The main reason for this prologue is to set up Anthony's conviction that he must not allow himself to fall in love because he—like his father—will not live past forty, and so his wife would certainly become a widow. The complete prologue is longer than most (seven pages in all), but everything in the prologue relates to that single event and its effect on the hero.
In most cases, it's better to keep the hero's reasons for avoiding love confidential for a while, often until near the end of the story. If Quinn had waited to share that information until the last chapter or two, however, the readers would likely have found Anthony's reasons inadequate and unconvincing. But since the readers start the story accepting (though not necessarily agreeing with) Anthony's belief, they understand why he acts as he does nearly fifteen years after the event detailed in the prologue.
CHAPTER ONE
The most important goals of your first chapter are (1) to introduce your main characters to the readers, (2) to establish the conflict between the characters, and (3) to make the readers care so much about the hero, the heroine, and their problems that they can't put the book down.
Though you will probably include more than just the two main characters in the first scene, try not to introduce your whole cast right away. There will be plenty of time to bring other people into the story, but you only have one chance to establish your main characters as interesting, important, and sympathetic.
The first chapter should focus on the main characters, who they are, and why the change or challenge they face is a serious threat to them. The most effective way to do this is to show the hero and heroine in action. Don't make the mistake of simply telling your readers about them.
The first chapter should show the hero and the heroine confronting the initial problem or problems. By the end of the first chapter of Maureen Child's Some Kind of Wonderful (opening lines on page 86), Carol has not only discovered an abandoned infant, she is named as the child's temporary foster mother. She meets the sheriff who will be investigating the abandonment, and he makes it clear he's suspicious of Carol and will be keeping an eye on her. The readers know this situation will be particularly challenging for Carol because she herself was abandoned as a child.
By the end of the first chapter of Anne Gracie's The Virtuous Widow (opening lines on page 85), a badly wounded man, drawn by the light of her daughter's wishing candle, stumbles into Ellie's cottage. Ellie takes him in, then tries to explain to her daughter that he is not the father the child barely remembers. She tucks him into her own bed and—because the cottage is small and cold and there's only one bed—she climbs in with