Start in the Middle of the Action

A strong opening scene creates propulsion to drive the story forward

“An actor entering through the door, you’ve got nothing, but if he enters through the window, you’ve got a situation.”

— Billy Wilder

We settle into our seats, scrumbling the top of our popcorn as the theater dims. The screen lights up, the titles roll, and suddenly we tumble into chaos. The motorcycle leaps the river and overtakes the getaway van. The horse breaks loose from the pack to snag the Derby crown. The boy and girl fall in love, fall into bed, and then fall out — all in the first ten minutes.

These opening exploits set up the story, pulling us into the action and posing more questions than they answer. They create a situation.

I learned that bit of stagecraft not from the director Billy Wilder (although I love his quote, above), but from the playwright Joe Sutton, who taught my graduate playwriting seminar. Over the eight-week course, we studied the machinery of the play, reading backwards and forwards to understand how a work creates and sustains momentum. To complete the course, I had to write a 45-minute one-act play, a humbling (humiliating) experience that principally earned me deep respect for anyone who can do that well.

Nonfiction writers can also use that dramatic technique — starting in medias res — to create a propulsion that catapults a piece forward. Picture the story pushing off from the wall at the deep end of the pool; the stronger the story’s legs, the farther it can go before it must start working its limbs and lungs. That initial drive compels the reader forward, too. It creates intrigue, interest. A situation.