Share the first paragraph of your story. Would you keep reading?

Creating this topic, because I haven’t seen those in a while that don’t already have 500 replies.


  • Post the first paragraph (or two if they’re short) of your story.
  • Add the title of your story
  • Reply to the last person, giving feedback about their paragraph. Be honest, but nice. Remember many of us are still starting out!
  • Do not post the link to your story! This is only for some feedback, and to improve your writing. (If you are genuinely interested, and want to read somebody’s book, look at their Wattpad profile).

I’ll try to reply to as much as I can!

Here’s mine (from the prologue):

Share the Night

Pain. Pain doesn’t perish like people make you believe. It doesn’t fade at night. It doesn’t hurt less the day after. It grows with the person.

You might forget a few weeks later when standing in front of a mirror. You may try to make things better, be positive, and feel thankful for your life. But, the thoughts always come back. The pain always comes back. It will never disappear from your heart.

Yeah, I would keep reading, defintly the first chapter and if I started to like or relate to your character or know about his/her pain, then I would read the next chapter after that :slight_smile: I love how your sentences flows but I would make the ones near the end really short and truncated as an added contrast to the long, flowy, comma-filled ones earlier. Because, at the end is where your protaganist is speaking the raw, dark truth and it appears like he/she doesn’t want to dabble with words. They just want to speak the rawness of their pain. I would also try starting every paragraph of the first sentence with the word pain and see if you like the effect.

Pain. Pain doesn’t perrish like people make you believe. Pain doesn’t fade at night. Pain doesn’t hurt less the day after. Pain grows with a person.

Optional suggestion but if you like it, go for it.

The Domino Effect (Teen Fiction)
Outside the window, the trees swayed mockingly. They stretched their arms towards the unending sky and uncurled their fingers as they boasted and tormented passersby . The birds sniggered as they danced through the air and joined in the trees’ torments. They were free. They were bound by neither walls nor law. Their only restriction was the unending, blue sky.


I like the concept of using nature to represent the unbound freedom. But it needs a little tweaking in some places to make you feel it. (Ask me in dm for more details)
Paradoxical Existence (Dark Fantasy)

My demonic nature to see the inevitable death of others in the form of numbers. A tingling, numb sensation filled my body to these insignificant symbols, I watched anyway. One such observation of a young couple with their baby in tow strolling down a concrete sidewalk. Tick tick, the infant’s clock read 11:59:30. I stepped forward through wood chips to my favorite red swing. I swung and stared at the passing clouds, lost in a vast sea of nothingness.

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I would keep reading, because the first sentence hooks you in right away & I like the sense of doom you get in just this paragraph.

Murder Your Darling (teen fiction)
Yesterday, my English teacher asked, “What is greatness?” and everyone thought he was on crack.
Turns out it was a discussion question for The Great Gatsby, which some of my class believes may very well be on crack.


Very nice! It made me smile a bit. I’ll definetly continue reading it.

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I would 100% keep reading because it genuinely made me smile. If I wrote this, I would start with just the quote, like the English teacher did. I also wouldn’t use the word turns out as I think it tells rather than shows.

“What is greatness?” my English teacher asked the ensemble of bored students slumped over in the classroom chairs.

“Is he on crack?” Character 1 whispered to me, her face screwed up in genuine confusion.

“When F. Scott Fitzgerald asked that question in the beginning of his novel, The Great Gatsby-” Mr… droned on

“He’s definitely on crack,” I reply, already counting the milliseconds until the home bell rang.

Of course, you may not want to start with dialogue. I really like the intro, this is just how I would start it, if you were looking for questions.

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I really like the hint that this class wouldn’t end well from the title. The second sentence to me will be better if it was in the past tense, or left out the ‘which some of my class’ part. I think it would be lighter and funnier without.

A Princess, a Dragon, a Rogue and One Other Guy

The chain chaffed Elvira in three places. The Sacred Oak’s gnarly trunk poked her in the back no matter how much she wiggled. Where is he already?

Her head lolled and the rose crown slipped to the ground from her flowing locks. It tittered at the edge of the sheer drop, the flowers turning whiter as they listened to the torrent below. The roaring water might have been scary by the roses’ standards, but it mewled when the dragon’s call shook the cliff, the Oak and chained Elvira.

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I prefer the way @nil_pil started it, because it is smooth, immersive and funny sentiment. Imo, this is a case where narrator’s voice works better than ‘showing’ because the showing you tried is a tired old scene in a high school that would immediately turn me off, delaying the punchline that does attract my attention. The way you started it, it looks like yet another teen fiction; the way they did it, was ‘oh, this is NOT yet another teen fiction’

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Lol, is this the one you’re working on? Let me know when it’s published :^) Sounds super interesting and right up my alley :wink:

From a currently unnamed rewrite of/prequel to Crossroads:

In the shadows of the ferns at the edge of the glade, fourteen-year-old Eliah Taitenschild lay in wait. Gentle rays of twilight filtered through the canopy above, reflecting off floating particles of aeonite, illuminating the clearing with a soft azure glow. Her quarry faced away from her, nose twitching as it took the time to investigate a moss-covered tree root. It hadn’t noticed her yet.


The next one, after I finish Ismar’s epic. I want to try a more classic comedy-fantasy.

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Aaaah - well I do enjoy a comedy-fantasy, so I’ll be waiting for you to post it :slight_smile:

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@DomiSotto @Charlotte_140 both of your suggestions are really good, (@Charlotte_140 yours is way funnier than mine) thank you so much! :grinning:

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I would definitely continue. Your imagery is very vivid and draws me in and the whole concept of stalking prey is quite intriguing. It also immediately raises questions about motive. A strong first paragraph.

Here is mine from War Orphan:

A cool breeze plays with Maria’s hair as she waits for the lynch mob. Standing on the terrace of her house, situated on what the locals call Forbidden Hills, her gaze rests on the far-away mountains. Their tips are still bathed in the crimson red of the setting sun, but the dark shadows of nightfall are creeping closer. In a couple of weeks, snow will cover those mountaintops—by then she will be long dead.


Thank you, I appreciate the feedback!

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This imagery is really good, and I wonder how Maria knows she’s going to die in a couple weeks, is she psychic? Is it because she’s meeting a mob with bad news?
From my book, Yours Trustfully.

“Did you hear? The prince passed in a horse riding accident.”

“Yes, the mare bucked near a steep cliff and the poor prince fell to his death.”

“Will they be able to recover the body?”

“They have recovered it. That handsome face of his, smashed beyond repair. The funeral is in a few days. Old King Edward will make an announcement that day, I hear.”

Such were the whispers on the streets of Lyston a few days after their beloved heir to the throne, James Maxwell Edward Pembrook, passed away, leaving everyone with a gut-wrenching ache that no condolence could eradicate. They were left with a hole in their heart so deep, even the deep seas seemed like a drop of water in the desert at their mercy.

It’s a bit hard to understand the context because it’s just two paragraphs in. We’re yet to discover the character, but understand their inner turmoils based on those paragraphs. I would delve deeper into the story. But that’s probably because I’m a sucker for monologues.

Here’s mine:

Title: The Inglorious Thieving of Bernard Ho

How does a job I used to love now makes me want to kick myself in the head so hard that maybe some sense would finally get inside this messy brain? I’m feeling the burn. Six years at this job, six years and I don’t see anything ahead for myself. Not a promotion, not even a pay raise. I’ve been loyal, I’ve been doing the best I can, but always, ALWAYS, overlooked when it comes to appraisal. Am I some kind of a pushover? That people can just dismissed because they know, “Azril can handle it” or “Azril doesn’t get angry at all”, or “You did well Azril, but the company decided to give Cecil the promotion instead”. Yes, I do smile all the time, but that does not mean I’m a robot devoid of any feelings.

I love how you describe the setting, it sets the mood of the story. I feel like there’s some frustration going on. Maybe the MC is having a tough time? I feel like I’m getting that vibe. I would check it the story out!

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There is a lot of frustration here in this paragraph. You conveyed the character’s emotions really well. It was like an internal monologue, following the thoughts of an angry person. I especially loved the repetition in your sentences; it created some kind of rhythm. Well done! However, I noticed that some grammar mistakes slipped in while you were writing:

How does the job MAKE…

but I’M always…

That people can just DISMISS… + I would connect this sentence to the previous one.

Your first sentence seems a bit confusing to me, maybe even run on. I may have a suggestion to make it a bit easier on the eye: I used to love this job, but now it merely makes me want to bang my head against the wall, so hard that maybe it finally kicks some sense into it. It’s just an idea, though. :blush:

Overall, I think you did fairly well.

From “Inheritance - The Dark Sorcerers: Book 1”:

There is no Light without the Dark.

The first Dark Child was born many centuries ago. At first sight, it looked like any other child. However, already after a few weeks, peculiar things started to happen around it. Animals acted as if they had rabies, attacking anyone who came close whilst their eyes rolled in their sockets. Freshly picked flowers withered within one day; lovely and colorful in the morning, flaccid and dead in the evening. The people who came near the child turned sad and quiet, or angry and irritable, picking a fight with each other over nothing.

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Oooh I love these !

Inheritance @IromaVP
To be honest, I like the descriptions, but it does remind me of a lot of other stories, so I might be less interested to keep reading. It’s obviously more of a fantasy novel, which is not really the genre I typically go for, so this is really just on me. I’m sure others would love it a lot more!

Every evening the Morstads gather at their back porch to watch the sky go dark. Sometimes I peek from my window as they nestle together, arms looped around the shoulders and backs of who is beside the next. The five of them share one blanket – a red and blue checkered one made of wool, I think. Even in the summer, when it’s too warm to step outside much less be close to someone, they are there, nestled in that same blanket. Even when it rains, they find themselves standing in it, soaking in it, as if they don’t feel it at all.

from Everything that Can Never Be


The first paragraph reads very smoothly and is pleasant to read. Its a very good start to the book I am just always a sucker for starting right in the middle of the action. Very good use of description, could really see the blanket and the scenarios you were describing. The beginning adds a lot of questions which intrigues me to continue reading. I know this is the first paragraph so i expect it picks up later.


I shudder awake to shouting echoing a few meters in front of me. The words are indistinguishable as they reach my ringing ears. I am unable to assess my surroundings due to a coarse cloth impeding my vision. Any attempt to move is hindered by the restraints linking me to the beam that I am firmly pressed up against. A sense of dread begins to overcome me, and I can feel my breathing becoming irregular. I begin to shuffle my body frantically attempting to escape. I shove my back into the pole and dig my heels into the ground desperately. I only achieve a slight shift in the cloth giving me a limited view in front of me. My newfound ability of sight is confronted by a line of bows and the owner of the unknown voice exclaiming, “FIRE!”

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