What I learned about writing – Use the non-fiction writer’s playbook

How to Nail the Start of Your Novel by Borrowing from Nonfiction’s Playbook

Every novelist knows the pressure of a great opening.

You’ve got one page—sometimes one paragraph—to hook your reader, introduce your world, and set the story in motion. Too much exposition, and you risk losing momentum. Too little context, and your reader is left confused. So how do you strike the perfect balance?

Turns out, the answer might not come from fiction at all.

Surprisingly, one of the most effective strategies for launching a novel comes not from bestselling thrillers or Pulitzer-winning literary works, but from the disciplined clarity of nonfiction writing.

Nonfiction writers live and breathe the six fundamental questions:
Who? What? Why? When? Where? How?

These aren’t just journalistic tools—they’re storytelling essentials. And by applying them to your novel’s opening, you can craft a start that’s both compelling and crystal clear.

Let’s break it down.


1. Who?

Establish your protagonist (or POV character) quickly.

Readers need someone to anchor to—fast. Within the first few paragraphs, you should introduce the person whose journey matters most. You don’t need a full backstory, but give us a sense of who they are: their name, role, emotional state, or core desire.

Example:
“My name is June Kim, and I hadn’t spoken to my mother in three years when the call came about her hospitalization.”
— Already, we have a who (June), a relationship (with her mother), and emotional weight.

Even in ensemble casts or complex narratives, the opening should clarify whose perspective we’re experiencing.


2. What?

What is happening right now?

This isn’t about the entire plot—just the immediate situation. What action, event, or decision kicks off the story?

Are they receiving a mysterious letter? Boarding a train to a new city? Discovering a body in the woods? The “what” grounds the reader in the present moment.

Tip: Start mid-action when possible. Avoid long internal monologues or backstory dumps. Let the “what” drive momentum.


3. Why?

Why should we care? Why does this matter to the character (and reader)?

This is where emotional stakes enter. A character running through a forest is intriguing—but if we know why they’re running (a child is missing, they’re being hunted, they’re fleeing guilt), the scene gains urgency.

The “why” doesn’t need to be fully explained upfront, but it should be implied. Let readers sense a deeper meaning, a hidden pain, or an impending threat.

Example:
Instead of: “She walked down the street.”
Try: “She walked down the street, rehearsing the apology she knew her sister wouldn’t accept.”
Now we have context, history, and emotional tension.


4. When?

Establish the timeline—past, present, future, or era.

Is this story set in modern-day Brooklyn, 18th-century France, or a post-apocalyptic 2150? Is it unfolding in real time or being told in retrospect?

Even subtle cues—technology, clothing, language—can signal time period without heavy exposition.

Pro Tip: If your novel spans multiple timelines, make the “when” of the opening scene unmistakable. Clarity prevents confusion.


5. Where?

Anchor the reader in a vivid setting.

Every story lives in a world—real or imagined. Use concrete sensory details (sights, sounds, smells) to immerse the reader instantly.

Don’t just say “a small town.” Say: “A town where every porch light flickered the same shade of yellow and everyone knew whose dog barked at 3 a.m.”

Strong setting doesn’t just describe—it enhances mood and theme.


6. How?

How does this opening scene set the tone and mechanics of the story to come?

This is your narrative engine. How is the story being told? First person? Third limited? With humour? Urgency? Mystery?

The “how” includes voice, pace, and structure. It answers: What kind of book have I just opened?

If your novel is a fast-paced thriller, the how might be short, punchy sentences and cliffhanger pacing. If it’s a quiet literary drama, the how could be lyrical introspection?

Your narrative technique should match your genre and intent.


Putting It All Together: A Fictional Example

Let’s apply all six questions to a strong novel opening:

“When the subway doors hissed open at 1:17 a.m., Leo Chen was the only one waiting on the platform—but he wasn’t the man I’d agreed to meet. I’d come to trade a stolen hard drive for $50,000 and my sister’s freedom. Now, standing in the flickering fluorescent light, I realized I was already too late.”

  • Who? The narrator (unnamed, but clearly involved) and Leo Chen.
  • What? A clandestine exchange on a subway platform.
  • Why? The narrator’s sister is being held; the stakes are sky-high.
  • When? 1:17 a.m.—late, isolated, dangerous.
  • Where? A nearly empty subway station, dimly lit and tense.
  • How? Immediate tension, first-person urgency, and mystery—hinting at a thriller’s pace.

All six questions answered—in under 70 words.


Final Thoughts: Clarity is Not the Enemy of Creativity

Some writers fear that answering these questions upfront will make the opening feel “formulaic.” But clarity isn’t the opposite of artistry—it’s its foundation.

Nonfiction writers use these questions to inform, yes—but novelists can use them to seduce. To intrigue. To deliver just enough truth so the reader can’t stop turning pages.

So before you write (or revise) your novel’s first chapter, ask yourself:

  • Who is the reader meeting?
  • What’s happening now?
  • Why does it matter?
  • When is this taking place?
  • Where are we, exactly?
  • How is this story being told—and why this way?

Answer those with precision and purpose, and you won’t just start your novel.
You’ll launch it.

Leave a comment

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.