Excerpts from
Straus
By Anders Bodelsen
February Eleventh
On the whole, the twenty-sixth of January was like any other day in the life of Denmarkīs second-best crime writer, but before his day ended he had committed a murder.
Well, thatīs half the battle. This may end up being my ninth novel, and Iīm following the principles Iīve always followed: Catch the readerīs attention as soon as possible. Make a promise, then it doesnīt matter so much if it takes a little while before you keep it. Letīs look at my first sentence. (But now some devil or other has already got me out of the novel and I catch myself wondering if Iīll ever get to finish it. Maybe it would be a good idea to begin all over again, begin with the figure one - this figure one that has always frightened me because it means months of difficulty ahead, work that can never be seen in its entirety before it is finished, and that never turns out exactly the way you imagined at the beginning.) Where was I? Oh, yes, letīs look at the first sentence. It raises suspense in two ways. The first is obvious and actually less exciting-at least itīs the most ordinary and more commonly used. Dear Reader, it says, have a little patience; all beginnings are difficult, but you will get your murder, I promise you. Not only in the course of the book (in the course of the book perhaps youīll get several), but in the course of the first day of the man the bookīs about. And the first day eats up two chapters at the most. Before then, I promise you, weīll be right in the midst of things. But give me a chance to warm up a little first. After all, itīs most exciting when we wait a little while for the murder. It will come, I promise you.
From: Straus, Harper & Row Publishers, 1974
Translated by Nadia Christensen & Alexander Taylor
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