Love Lettering

 

Seven words is not very many. Kate Clayborn makes these seven words the entire first paragraph of her novel Love Lettering. She sets them apart for our consideration. What do these highlighted words accomplish?

We have a time, although it is strange. Normally, "On Sunday" refers to a different time than the current time, but "I work" is in the present tense, which says that all of this is happening now. That bothers me a little, as does not placing a comma after "On Sunday." I find it better usage to place a comma after opening phrases that place the rest of the sentence in a time, place, or situation. 

We have a person: – "I" – which means that the voice and the subject are the same person. So the words tell us how this person talks and sees the world as well as what they do. 

Then we have "work." There's a little ambiguity here as well. Does work mean that "sans serif" is the entire profession, or only Sunday's task? Does this task fill the whole day or even longer? Present tense is less precise here than past tense would be. Look at how much changes in past tense and with a comma: "On Sunday, I worked in sans serif." Past tense puts bounds on the activity. 

Finally, "sans serif" is a very specific and somewhat uncommon phrase. For most people, sans serif is probably a distinction between kinds of fonts that they seldom consider. Our narrator works in it. We now know that, for the speaker, sans serif is an important consideration. Those two words make the work detailed and specific, and show that the speaker is precise and technical.

With this short sentence, the narrator has shown that they know their work, and will speak to us clearly and bluntly. 

Does the sentence contain a problem? That is not as clear. We don't yet know if working in sans serif is tedious or challenging or otherwise fraught. What this first sentence has promised is the company of a distinct, forceful, and observant voice, and the pleasure of seeing a specific life through those eyes. 

Gods of Jade and Shadow

 

Silvia Moreno-Garcia starts Gods of Jade and Shadow by saying the contents of the sky change the lives of people. She graciously summarizes the thesis of astrology. She's placing the characters of her novel under control of forces beyond their reach. 

She's also dividing the world into two: those born lucky and those born unfortunate. Which means that she has already created two sources of conflict: people versus cosmic forces and the lucky versus the unfortunate. 

It's a slightly unusual place to begin a story. As yet, we have no particular person to focus on. And, the novel calls for someone who can take action. A character who follows a predetermined path is an automaton rather than a protagonist. Even if the available actions are very small, there must be some choices to make a story. 

We like characters who take action. So it's risky to start a story by putting the results under the control of the stars and planets instead of in the hands of humans. 

The word "born" is very important here. It holds out the possibility that the stars and planets only dictate where someone begins, and not where they go from there. 

The beauty of the sentence also helps draw a reader on. "Some people are born under a lucky star" has almost passed into cliché, and then Moreno-Garcia plays on it with the contrast she makes in the second half of the sentence. "Misfortune telegraphed" contains two less-common words, an attractive rhythm, and an old-fashioned flavor. Telegraphs are not common any more. Then "position of the planets" is more specific than "lucky star" and has the poetic effect of the repeating Ps. 

I'm hoping when I read this that a central character will challenge the cosmic forces that placed them in an unfortunate circumstance, and that the story will continue in lovely language. If the author satisfies those hopes, the book will please me. 

Spoiler alert: She met my hopes. 

Graphic design by Ken Silbert