Forge an opening

One of the hardest parts of writing fiction for me is the opening scene. It sets up so much of the narrative cascade that follows, and in some ways is the foundation of the story, the roots from which everything else will grow. I struggle not only to write anything, but struggle to write anything that I like. There's a spark that's difficult to find in those first paragraphs that paints a scene that's either interesting enough to pursue further or isn't. Much like a reader needs to be roped in by those opening few hundred words, I need to feel that they are interesting and evocative to me.

Other scenes have the benefit of the hundreds or thousands of words that came before. They have a causality and a history to rely upon for direction, for inspiration and for continuity; but there is no page before the first. It's the first step, the voyage into the unexplored. That blank piece of paper or empty white window is as intimidating as it is full of potential. For all the ideas I have regarding the journey and the destination, the starting point is agonisingly elusive.

That is until I find that one speck of inspiration that rapidly becomes a few words, then a few paragraphs.