I'm currently agonising over the opening in one of my novels. Many peopel have said they liked it and like the main character in Evan, whislt others said they could not relate to him and perhaps try showing his character more.
I'm also agonising how to get it word perfect as this will be the first sentences a potential reader will see.
Here's my current opening:
Evan Umbra vaulted the school gate and hit the ground running.
They followed close behind.
Rain spat down from a bruise-blue sky and gusts of wind snatched at him with invisible claws. Fear clutched at his heart with a firm, icy grasp.
There were no others to witness what Evan knew was about to happen, not even a car speeding through the tight network of narrow roads. He hurled himself into the nearest alley in an attempt to escape. Impulse fuelled him as he ran from the three. He didn’t know where to run or what to do. He soon realised his mistake.
Alone. Cornered. Trapped.
Oh, please, let it be over quick.
At the end of the alleyway loomed a tall metal fence blocking his escape. He knew he didn’t have a chance, but he had to at least try. Evan threw himself at the gate, scrabbling for a hold as he attempted to pull himself up and over, but it was no use. Two rough hands seized him.
One minute he was clinging to the cold metal, the next he was shuddering into the hard ground. A brief respite; staring up at the leaden sky, then he was hauled back to his feet, spun round, and thrown back against the unforgiving metal.
His whole body trembled and his stomach tightened. The bullies laughed in his face.
“What’s the rush, Ev?” Ollie said, at the forefront of the three, his fat face grinning maliciously.
Evan opened his mouth to speak--it was slapped hard. The humiliation was worse then the sting.
“Oh, what you gonna’ do, mate?” the bully taunted. “Go on, hit me.”
Before Evan could retort, all the wind rushed out of him as Ollie’s fat fist slammed into his stomach; he fell to his knees, gasping for air. Again and again the bully struck, his friends chuckling as Evan fell to the floor, body jerking with each blow.
He didn’t want to be such a coward, but knew he was. He hated it, everyday of his life; he hated himself for not having the courage to fight back. He was a completely useless human being.
Perhaps he deserved his punishment.
“Fight back Evan, come on you wimp. We won’t stop until you fight.”
“I can’t” Evan moaned, trying not to let the tears fall.
“Ah is the little girl gonna’ cry. For god’s sake hit me you stupid little kid.”
As Ollie laughed, he lost his focus, and Evan surged up, fighting like a cornered animal. His struck out wildly, knocking Ollie off balance and to the ground. Evan’s amazement was cut short as Ollie’s crony Jack stepped in. Evan lashed out with a kick, connecting with Jack’s midsection. This left him open to Ollie’s other stooge Natt. As Evan dealt with Jack, Natt barrelled into him from the side, slamming him up against the fence and thrusting his knee into Evan’s stomach.
Evan gasped and tried to push the bigger boy away but Natt kneed him again in the head. His vision blurred.
He tried to hit back, but by then he was reeling and off balance--his fist only struck air.
His world was turned upside down as Ollie came back, smashing into him like a crazed bull, raining down blows without mercy.
Jack and Natt joined him, kicking any exposed body part they could find.
Again and again Evan’s body rocked and quivered from the impact. All three bullies were screaming incoherently. Evan was silent.
Finally his torture came to an end.
“Hit back again, Evan, and I’ll kill ya’.”
“but you just said-“
Ollie punctuated his threat with a last kick to the stomach.
Evan covered his face, gritting his teeth and trying not to cry out at the pain.
Their laughter haunted him as they sauntered out of the alley, leaving him curled up in a ball against the cold metal fence.
One person mentioned that I change the opening to this:
They were after him. Evan vaulted the school gate and hit the ground running. He didn't want to be such a coward, but he knew he was.
Rain spat down from a bruise-blue sky and gusts of wind snatched at him with invisible claws. Fear clutched at his heart with a firm, icy grasp.
But then another mentioned how this version feels too disjointed.
Is there any help you can provide Jim?