Cece Lyra’s Starting it Right: How to Begin Your Story in the Best Place and in the Best Way class ended three weeks ago and I’m still in denial that I don’t get to spend Thursday evenings hearing about curiosity seeds and power dynamics.
The course was a 4-day event packed with analysis, checklists, strategies, and examples — and if/when she runs it again, I highly recommend it!
But today we’re focusing on Cece’s generous bonus. After the final class, she sent out a giant spreadsheet with everyone’s first line, and her evaluation of it: red (start over), yellow (consider rewriting), green (it’s working!)
I wasn’t too surprised to open the spreadsheet and see my first line:
Yeah, oof.
But this book is still in first draft form — in fact, I’m gearing up to start draft two over Easter weekend — so it’s the perfect time to put what I learned about first lines in practice!
Context
My book is a YA contemporary romcom set against a rivalry between two productions of The Nutcracker.
The Problem
My openings are often rewritten like 100 times. So what I submitted was actually my second attempt at a first line.
Version 1:
The corridors of Frostwood Academy for the Performing Arts were deadly, palpably quiet.
Since this is a multi-POV novel where all the characters go to an arts school, I though starting with setting might be effective.
This could, for some people, spark some mild curiosity over why the hallway was so quiet.
The use of “deadly”, though, is totally the wrong vibe for a festive romcom. It misrepresented the tone of the story.
Version 2:
At Frostwood Academy for the Performing Arts, the students were often dramatic. Loud. Known for breaking into song at obnoxiously inappropriate moments.
I agree this also doesn’t work. Cece said “too much info” but I think the biggest issue is
it’s boring.
Obviously, students at a performing arts school would be dramatic. That’s expected — which makes this line pretty useless in terms of dramatic potential.
What’s the approach?
Taking these two lines together, I was trying to set up that this school full of arts students is unusually quiet. And — revealed a few paragraphs in — it’s because the cast list for the Nutcracker Cup is about to be posted.
The unusual silence is meant to underscore what a massive deal the Nutcracker is.
Going with that, I could edit my first line to be something like: Sophie never thought a hallway full of theatre kids could be this quiet.
Except I’m going to scrap this approach entirely: I don’t think I’m focusing on the most interesting thing here. And — this sounds odd — but I kind of want to downplay the theatre kid aspect. The Nutcracker is the backdrop and in the title. I don’t need to emphasise it here.

Let’s Fix it!
Step One: Look at Comps
Studying similar stories — especially ones we love — is often a great strategy for solving our writing problems. So I looked at the first lines of a number of YA theatre and Christmas-y romance books (and starred my favourites!)
“I don’t know if all the world’s a stage.” -My Fair Braidy by Brian D. Kennedy 🤩
“It was a drag queen’s worst nightmare.” -The Four Dorothys by Paul Ruditis
“It really feels like an ending, in every way possible.” -Kate in Waiting by Becky Albertalli
“It was the night before Christmas.” -Let it Snow by Maureen Johnson, John Green, Lauren Myracle
“The Christmas season may be magical and delightful to some, but you could never tell from my gate at LaGuardia airport.” -Eight Dates and Nights by Becky Aldridge 🤩
Step Two: Widen the net, and brainstorm!
There are a lot of angles I could take to the opening…I’m going to think up a few and brainstorm first lines for each of them!
Approach One: Focus on Sophie’s current problem: getting through the halls, on her way to the drama office.
Sophie Vasilakis was late. (not bad but generic…maybe bordering on cliche?)
Sophie Vasilakes had ten minutes to save face. (better, but I don’t like the weak verb)
Sophie Vasilakis budgeted ten minutes to save face. (I like that this gives her agency and the contrast between budgeting - which implies strategy and control - and saving face, which implies a lack of control)
Sophie budgeted ten minutes to bribe the drama teacher. (This is feeling better - bribery is intriguing and it elicits a specific question!)
Approach two: Highlight Sophie’s relationship with Brandon — the focus of her love story — and make the first line a telling observation.
Girls always had crushes on Sophie’s boyfriend. (there’s the weak verb again)
Sophie’s boyfriend attracted girls like mistletoe. (I’m not sure if this makes sense)
All the wrong boys had mistletoe. (This makes me laugh but I don’t think it’d actually work for my story).
Sophie’s boyfriend never seemed to notice his throng of irritatingly pretty admirers. (I like the voicey-ness in this and it’s very relevant to the later story.)
Brandon never noticed the throng of irritatingly pretty admirers. (Made it less wordy but this would be a POV slip - we can’t know he doesn’t notice, we’re not in his head).
Approach three: Zoom out and focus more on setting tone, theme, etc. rather than the immediate scene.
Anything can be a secret, until it’s shared. (Not bad)
Christmas was a time for secrets. (Warmer)
Christmas was the season of secrets. (I like this - subverting the ‘season of miracles’ or ‘season of joy’ we’d expect).
Christmas was the season of short-lived secrets. (I think adding the ‘short lived’ makes it stronger and relates to the cast list, among other things, being a secret that will be revealed).
Step Three: Decide!
These are my top three.
Sophie budgeted ten minutes to bribe the drama teacher.
Sophie’s boyfriend never seemed to notice the throng of irritatingly pretty admirers.
Christmas was the season of short-lived secrets.
I’m going to play around with these as I edit my opening…this early-on in the writing process, it’s very possible (actually, more than likely) I start with a completely different opening scene and scrap all of this.
But I’m curious — because first lines are so subjective — which of these most peaks your curiosity? In-scene, observation, or zoomed out?