Those first 500 words

book cover for Hannah's Island

The first 500 words of a novel are the most important – maybe as few as the first 300 according to some people.

I have read through the profiles of over 150 agents, watched their video blogs where available (this is an excellent one from an agent I immediately warmed to because of his honesty) and read their twitter feeds (that took a while and wasn’t very productive). But one frequently mentioned desire is to be immersed in a place, a culture, a character – almost immediately. They want to know how it feels to be there. They want to be captivated.

My own writing has been strong on plot and characters, but I may have found a possible weakness in my previous novels in terms of this immediate immersive feeling. I am now trying to correct that with my fourth novel and am sharing my work in progress here. This opening may have to change a little as the story develops because plots evolve and characters develop.

ps The title of the novel is going to change, Hannah’s Island is just a ‘working title’. The cover image is apt and will probably remain if I end up self-publishing. This opening has not been edited yet – warning, there may be literals.

Hannah’s Island – Chapter 1

Hannah dived, leaving only a ring of ripples on the mirrored surface of the sea as it closed behind her. A trail of bubbles marked her progress as she knifed deeper, hands pulling confidently against the cool water. She eased herself between the roof timbers and into a space lit only by flashes of shattered sunlight on the swaying weedcovered walls. Swimming down the line of the stairs she searched for the kitchen, where any valuable items would most likely be found.

That day a soft mist had stretched along the horizon, obscuring the mainland, so that the island appeared to be afloat in an endless ocean. Even though it was not yet noon the sun-scorched rocks had burned against the soles of her bare feet. The sea shimmered with the ice-cold clarity of a reservoir and looked no more than a few feet deep, but the rafters of a roof were clearly defined, stark beneath the surface, a skeleton picked clean like carrion on a field. A shoal of small silver fish flashed against the bare ribs of the abandoned house.

Most buildings covered by the rising seas were stripped in the decades before she was born, but Hannah enjoyed the silence of exploring old submerged houses. She imagined a family there once, clustered around a television, each with their own personal phone, chatting to friends and to each other – technology that was no longer viable. Her occasional discoveries of aluminium pots and pans, copper items, even iron tools could all be weighed and exchanged for small luxuries when the packet steamer called on the second Tuesday of the month. Most of what she earned was saved towards a gift for Ethan.

After drifting out through the open back door, still empty handed, she glanced to one side and saw two large coalbunkers. They must have been overlooked when the house was abandoned to the waves. The timber covers had rotted and between missing planks they looked to be still full of coal – worth investigating with fresh air in her lungs. Hannah pushed off from what had once been the doorstep, a slab of dressed slate that might also be worth salvaging. She let her natural buoyancy pull her upwards. In no hurry, Hannah watched the ever-changing patterns of sunlight and blue sky flash and dance on the surface above her. With only a few feet to go a shadow cut across the water. The hull of a small boat sliced through the sea, the daggerboard missing her shoulder by inches.

Hannah broke the surface and gasped for air as her eyes followed the line of white water left by the dinghy. She heard wood grind against shingle as the boat rode onto the beach. The sudden contact unbalanced the woman at the tiller. The sail slapped like sheets drying in a fresh breeze. The boom swung, it struckthe woman on the side of her head and pitched her into the water. Hannah took a deep breath. Her hands dug hard as she swam towards the beach and the body, which lay face down in the shallows.

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