Start Writing Commercial Fiction
The One for new writers who value flexibility
Have you always had the idea for a story but never known where to start? Have you lacked the confidence to start writing? Or think that you’ve missed your chance and now it’s too late? Do you struggle to find time to fit writing in around your daily life?
Start Writing Commercial Fiction is the perfect introductory course for you. We break down the concepts behind how to write page-turning stories into practical techniques and provide expert guidance from bestselling authors to turn that idea into a story.
Build your skills and confidence with step-by-step training that will see you write the opening chapters of your story in just four weeks.
Teaching:
Self-paced
Level:
Beginners and new writers
Course length:
4 weeks
£49
£99
Limited-time launch offer valid until 1st May 2026
Write your awesome label here.
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Videos: 14
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Assignments: 4
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Course access: 12 months
COURSE OVERVIEW
In this course you will learn how to:
Designed to work flexibly around your schedule, writers will only need to set aside around four to five hours per week on average to complete the course.
By the end of the four weeks you will have written the first three chapters of your novel and have a clear plan for writing to the end.
Start Writing Commercial Fiction has been developed in partnership with the Professional Writing Academy.
- Find your audience and learn what makes them unable to put books down.
- Turn your ideas into gripping hooks and page-turning stories.
- Create compelling protagonists.
- Develop your writing voice and master pacing and tension.
- Most importantly, build the plan and framework for your novel.
Designed to work flexibly around your schedule, writers will only need to set aside around four to five hours per week on average to complete the course.
By the end of the four weeks you will have written the first three chapters of your novel and have a clear plan for writing to the end.
Start Writing Commercial Fiction has been developed in partnership with the Professional Writing Academy.
This course is available to writers who are residents of the United Kingdom or United States of America.
For aspiring writers looking to...
Start your novel
You’ve always wanted to write but not known how to start. Learn how to choose the right idea and take the first steps to getting it on the page.
Grow confidence
Learn proven concepts and techniques from bestselling authors and experts and create a plan for your novel to build confidence in your writing.
Build a routine
Fit writing into your daily life with a flexible learning model that works around you. Learn how to build momentum and make time for your writing.
Find a community
Meet authors who are at the same stage of their writing journey and enhance your learning experience through group interaction and collaboration.
What you’ll learn
Module 1: Understanding Commercial Fiction
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What commercial fiction is and why the PageOne approach is different.
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Why genre is critical and an overview of the key genres in commercial fiction.
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Who your readers are and what they are looking for.
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Introduction to hooks and inciting incidents.
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Assignment: Explore hooks and title ideas for your book.
Module 2: Plot Your Story
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Why it’s important to develop your concept and plan before you start writing.
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Introduction to the five-point story arc.
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How to create and manage pace and tension.
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Why emotion is key.
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The role of chapters.
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Assignment: Write a synopsis for your novel.
Module 3: Introduce Your Protagonist
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The role of the protagonist; what makes a sympathetic protagonist.
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The relationship between plot and character.
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The role of backstory.
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Understanding voice.
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Introduction to point of view.
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Assignment: Write the scene introducing your protagonist.
Module 4: Start Writing Your Novel
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The importance of beginnings.
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How to plan the opening to your novel.
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Finding your writing speed.
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Beat blocks and procrastination: how successful authors work.
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Revisit your five-point plan and plan your opening chapters.
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Assignment: Write your first three chapters.
Course Content
Is this course
right for you?

Starting your writing journey
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You have always had a story idea (or several) but you aren’t sure how to turn it into your first novel.
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You are new to writing or you’ve tried courses before but they didn’t motivate you to keep going.
Commercially focused
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You have always had a story idea (or several) but you aren’t sure how to turn it into your first novel.
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You are new to writing or you’ve tried courses before but they didn’t motivate you to keep going.
Value flexible and accessible learning
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You have always had a story idea (or several) but you aren’t sure how to turn it into your first novel.
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You are new to writing or you’ve tried courses before but they didn’t motivate you to keep going.
Meet your tutor
Ain Chiara
What I love most about publishing is working closely with authors, to nurture and support their talent and skills. A few years ago, I joined Bookouture to create and lead this academy.
Previously, I worked across Penguin Random House and Oxford University Press, as well as consulting for both authors and publishers. I’ve had the privilege of contributing to campaigns for authors including Bernardine Evaristo, Lisa Jewell and Tim Peake. I am so excited to bring my experience to supporting writers in creating stories that readers will love.
Previously, I worked across Penguin Random House and Oxford University Press, as well as consulting for both authors and publishers. I’ve had the privilege of contributing to campaigns for authors including Bernardine Evaristo, Lisa Jewell and Tim Peake. I am so excited to bring my experience to supporting writers in creating stories that readers will love.
Expert advice from bestselling authors
Throughout the four-week learning experience, you will meet commercial authors across a range of genres, who will share their advice on what helps them craft stories that readers can’t put down. From guidance on how to understand your readers and craft compelling hooks through to creating unforgettable protagonists and balancing your writing routine with your personal life, they discuss practical tips for you to apply to your own writing.
Sue Watson
Soraya Lane
Leodora Darlington
Lauren North
Suzette D. Harrison
Lisa Regan
Daniel Hurst
Anna Stuart
Who we are
We empower writers with the skills and confidence they need to create page-turning stories
Featured pages
Get in touch
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Carmelite House
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support@pageone.co
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+44 (0)20 3122 6000
PageOne is a trading name of Storyfire Ltd., a limited company registered in England and Wales. Registered number: 07893911. VAT Reg. No: 205505305.
Copyright Storyfire Ltd. © 2026
Hook
A teenage girl’s body is found at a former children’s home, where Detective Kim Stone once lived.
Why it works
It’s a perfect procedural combination of gripping crime and brilliant central detective. We learn that a child was killed, and their body hidden (an adult-sized hole would have taken longer).
The death of a child is always hugely emotional, and the sense of a conspiracy is immediately intriguing.
We have a number of burning questions:
- Who died?
- Why?
- How will the crime be uncovered?
- Who are the five people who did it?
- Will justice be served?
Those questions will keep us reading all the way through – and we know that a determined detective with her own demons will get us the answers.
Hook
A woman marries the man who killed her son.
Why it works
It's perfect for a psychological thriller.
It is immediately jaw-dropping, sets up a burning question, hits key genre cues and is inherently psychologically twisty and emotional.
In eleven words, the tagline ‘Ten years ago he killed my son. Today I married him.’ clearly conveys the hook and gives us a sympathetic protagonist (her son was killed) and an unimaginable twist (she's marrying the killer). And it makes us ask first of all why she would marry him, but also what happened in those ten years, what the marriage will be like, and why he killed her son in the first place.
And it tells us:
We know he's killed before. What's she capable of? Who will survive this marriage?
It is immediately jaw-dropping, sets up a burning question, hits key genre cues and is inherently psychologically twisty and emotional.
In eleven words, the tagline ‘Ten years ago he killed my son. Today I married him.’ clearly conveys the hook and gives us a sympathetic protagonist (her son was killed) and an unimaginable twist (she's marrying the killer). And it makes us ask first of all why she would marry him, but also what happened in those ten years, what the marriage will be like, and why he killed her son in the first place.
And it tells us:
- The book will be about a messed-up marriage
- It has two very messed-up characters with messed-up dynamics
- The stakes are as high as can be
We know he's killed before. What's she capable of? Who will survive this marriage?
Hook
To survive a deadly contest in a haunted mansion, Ophelia must make a deal with a handsome stranger: ten years of her life for his protection.
Why it works
The stakes are as high as can be. The setting is distinctive and unusual yet hits the right notes for the genre: magic, peril, gothic overtones. The well-loved enemies-to-lovers trope is clear. The male lead seems extremely threatening, making this as dark as readers of this genre enjoy, and presenting surely too big an obstacle for the lovers to overcome. Two burning questions: will she survive and will they fall in love?
The blurb opens with the dilemma at the core of many romantasy novels, phrased in a distinctive, punchy way: threat embedded in attraction. This theme is repeated and developed throughout the blurb. Readers are desperate for the couple to fall in love. But falling in love is dangerous. The missing sister immediately gets us rooting for Ophelia. The haunted mansion again gives us that maddeningly compelling combination of danger and attraction. And then we meet Blackwell, and we have an overwhelming physical attraction warring with a sense of threat. We just have to know the answer to those burning questions: will they get together? Will Ophelia survive?
Hook
Two old friends pretending to be a couple get snowed in together at Christmas.
Why it works
Perhaps more so than in any other genre, romance readers are drawn to recognisable tropes, and here we have two up-front in the cover and title: fake-dating and forced proximity… Oh, and it’s at Christmas.
But a trope on its own is not a hook. The trick of strong publishing in this area is in presenting these extremely common tropes in a way that feels unique and fresh to readers. Why would a reader pick THIS specific fake dating, forced-proximity romance above all others? The answer lies in the added details, colour, charm and humour conveyed in both the blurb and the writing itself. The fact everyone at home hates Megan for jilting Isaac makes readers sympathise with her, and the Dublin setting (people love an Irish romance!), combined with the humour of the contract written on a wine-stained napkin build on the hook to give Snowed In its personality and charm.
But a trope on its own is not a hook. The trick of strong publishing in this area is in presenting these extremely common tropes in a way that feels unique and fresh to readers. Why would a reader pick THIS specific fake dating, forced-proximity romance above all others? The answer lies in the added details, colour, charm and humour conveyed in both the blurb and the writing itself. The fact everyone at home hates Megan for jilting Isaac makes readers sympathise with her, and the Dublin setting (people love an Irish romance!), combined with the humour of the contract written on a wine-stained napkin build on the hook to give Snowed In its personality and charm.
Hook
In the present day, an elderly woman in a nursing home is hiding a secret. In the past, she vows to uncover the truth about her husband’s death in World War II Germany, no matter the cost.
Why it works
The burning questions are whether she will uncover the truth, what that truth will be, and what the cost will be. Germany during World War II is the most popular setting in historical fiction. The husband-wife relationship sounds epic, and this genre always calls for a touch of romance.
The blurb develops the hook in stages. It immediately sets up two burning questions: what was the promise, and what was the terrible price? The elderly lady is distinctive and in stark contrast to the cover – what is the connection? We care and want to know her secrets. Learning what the promise was gives us satisfaction, but the question of the terrible price remains.
The second paragraph contains multiple strong genre cues – secrets about the past hidden in domestic settings – and introduces another burning question around ‘The Forbidden Village’, and adds more depth and detail to the central hook, making us care more. The final line ups the ante with a new detail about the central mystery that we are dying to understand.
The second paragraph contains multiple strong genre cues – secrets about the past hidden in domestic settings – and introduces another burning question around ‘The Forbidden Village’, and adds more depth and detail to the central hook, making us care more. The final line ups the ante with a new detail about the central mystery that we are dying to understand.
Hook
When a woman’s husband dies, she discovers he had a daughter by another woman.
Why it works
The burning questions are embedded from the title: will she take the young girl in in, can she love the girl like her own. Not only has she lost her husband, but she’s lost the illusion of her beautiful marriage. It places our protagonist in an instant, high-stakes moral dilemma which is perfect for emotional women’s fiction.
These high stakes come from a vulnerable young child placed at the heart of the conflict and a wife tasked with forgiving her husband for the sake of the child. We have a setup of, on paper, the perfect couple who have a very comfortable life but we know that this is about to come crashing down.
The emotional stakes and tension are raised with the reveal that the child’s mother is also hiding a terrible secret that could change all of their lives. It forces the reader to ask the question: what would they do if this happened to them?
These high stakes come from a vulnerable young child placed at the heart of the conflict and a wife tasked with forgiving her husband for the sake of the child. We have a setup of, on paper, the perfect couple who have a very comfortable life but we know that this is about to come crashing down.
The emotional stakes and tension are raised with the reveal that the child’s mother is also hiding a terrible secret that could change all of their lives. It forces the reader to ask the question: what would they do if this happened to them?
Editor’s Notes
You can see that each plot point is just a sentence or two. This is very sparse: the barest bones of the story.
We haven’t addressed how the characters get from point to point – that’s in the joy of telling the story itself.
But knowing these key beats ahead of time – before filling in any more details – means you can plan each chapter knowing where you’re trying to get to and at what point.
We haven’t addressed how the characters get from point to point – that’s in the joy of telling the story itself.
But knowing these key beats ahead of time – before filling in any more details – means you can plan each chapter knowing where you’re trying to get to and at what point.
Editor’s Notes
In the five-point plan there are two more points which move the story between the key moments from the three-point plan.
You can see that the example is fairly sparse. In particular, the ‘journey’ covers a lot of ground just with the sentence ‘Jack and Rose fall for each other’.
There are many, many emotional scenes in the film which take us on this journey of them falling for each other (Jack saves Rose from jumping overboard, Jack attends a first-class dinner, they go dancing together in the third-class area of the ship).
All these scenes are crucial for showing us their love story and getting us invested in the characters, but in terms of the bare bones of the plot, they are all part of the ‘journey’.
Again, the crisis may take up multiple scenes in your story but, for the purposes of this plan, it is important to distil it down into a clear, simple plot point.
You can see that the example is fairly sparse. In particular, the ‘journey’ covers a lot of ground just with the sentence ‘Jack and Rose fall for each other’.
There are many, many emotional scenes in the film which take us on this journey of them falling for each other (Jack saves Rose from jumping overboard, Jack attends a first-class dinner, they go dancing together in the third-class area of the ship).
All these scenes are crucial for showing us their love story and getting us invested in the characters, but in terms of the bare bones of the plot, they are all part of the ‘journey’.
Again, the crisis may take up multiple scenes in your story but, for the purposes of this plan, it is important to distil it down into a clear, simple plot point.
Editor’s Notes
The prologue of The Missing Ones pitches the reader straight into a sinister and shocking crime scene with real visceral and emotional detail. You know instantly, from details like ‘little body’, that the victim is a child, which taps into a ‘reader’s worst nightmare’ which we know is something strong and is popular with the audience of police procedural books. There are little details about the killer(s) as well – the fact that they kick the little body into the hole shows they have no respect/love for the victim and are truly cold-blooded and ruthless – again, something that works well with the audience – as it’s more of a challenging and high-stakes case for the detective to crack.
The author uses little details to do a lot of heavy lifting; ‘two mounds of earth’ beneath the apple tree tells the reader that this little victim isn’t the killer’s first. The ‘three small faces’ in the window, who witness the little body being buried, tell the reader that there are more potential victims ripe for the picking, and that they too are vulnerable and defenceless. Having such innocent victims really makes the reader root for them from the get-go and want to find justice for them.
By the end of the prologue, the reader wants to find a detective that will eat, sleep and breathe the case, and happily, in chapter one we will find this in Detective Lottie Parker, who will stop at nothing to prevent another innocent life being taken...
Editor’s Notes
The prologue of The Forgotten Italian Restaurant is the perfect promise to the reader. It takes place one month before the events of the book and shows readers the impossible situation the protagonist that they’re about to meet will journey towards. The sub-heading sets the scene in WW2 and the mention of Signora Jorelini in the second line cleverly signposts the location. It introduces the reader to Emilia, who is on a secret mission, hiding in the darkness of night. Immediately, the author gives us a character to root for, and creates tension, a question of discovery. Both things escalate with details that heighten the danger (there is a Nazi presence) and sympathy for Emilia (she is only fifteen, her family are gone).
The prologue is full of the rich descriptive detail and quality prose readers expect in this genre, but importantly, these lines combine with the tension to build hope. This is shown most clearly in the author’s use of stars. When the reader begins the prologue there are none, but then Emilia spots four stars in the sky in the final few lines. She has already found hope in this prologue, the promise of an end to this war, of survival for her and the other people in town. Even in this short prologue her character develops: she goes from being tentative and scared to being certain she will escape and return to her home. If readers want to find out more about Emilia and what happens next, they must read on, and it’s clear what sort of journey they will go on if they do.
Editor’s Notes
Aside from the promised mystery plot, as this is the first book in a series, we need readers to buy into our unconventional and headstrong protagonist Lady Eleanor Swift. In this extract we see Eleanor thrown into a situation she is not entirely comfortable with right from the off – she’s inherited a title, a grand house and a staff – and she has no idea how to handle any of this!
Eleanor needs to be intriguing and relatable in equal measure. To achieve this we have some small details about her own unusual and outlandish backstory paired with hints about secrets in her and her uncle’s pasts PLUS her all-important feelings and inner thoughts on the above. We’re told a lot of details about her family backstory, but the third person POV also lets us get inside her head through showing her thinking to herself and thus we immediately empathise with her.
As an introductory scene, the writing is laced with description of the environment Eleanor finds herself in. The third person POV allows for a greater freedom in detailing her surroundings but also lets the author highlight Eleanor’s personal reactions to this environment and starts to build that relationship between reader and character. So what at first seems like a totally charmed and highly unrelatable situation is immediately brought back down to earth with Eleanor’s feelings on the matter.
Editor’s Notes
The beauty of a first-person prologue in this example is that we don’t know who is talking or thinking. This leaves events open to interpretation as we go into the novel: who has been killed? Who has been accused? Who is being arrested? We want to find out the answers to these questions and so we keep reading!
Another benefit of the first-person voice is that a writer can easily show the difference between what a character is thinking and how they are acting or presenting to the world. In this extract, the speaker doesn’t want to tell the police ‘something I shouldn’t.’ It would be much more difficult to convey this so directly in third person. Intriguing backstory is even hinted at with ‘I am rusty on this protocol.’, suggesting this is not the first time the speaker has interacted with the police. If this was in third person the author might have to tell us this information rather than showing it to us. Showing is so often more compelling.
Editor’s Notes
We might say that this prologue is written in ‘close’ third person. Although there is no ‘I’ pronoun, the inner thoughts and feelings of the character are still told to us. So a specific character point of view is still very much communicated: Margo believes the sounds she hears are gunshots, she experiences panic, she hypothesises about what might have happened. In this prologue, there are no hidden agendas that our character Margo seems to have: so third person makes sense. The drama is external, and there’s nothing ‘inner’ that is necessary to create tension or convey the story.
The experience of reading this prologue is a little more like watching a TV drama unfold: there is a sense that we aren’t inside the head of our character. Third person means we sometimes have to ‘tell’ readers more than we ‘show’. This can be a very impactful technique.
Editor’s Notes
The omniscient narrative voice in the prologue keeps the reader at a distance from the characters, and allows the author to move from one character to another. Rather than being restricted to a single point of view, we shift between the 82-year-old birthday boy, the retired detective superintendent, even the botanist who writes the report… It gives us a bird’s eye point of view, as if we are looking down and observing the characters and events.
An omniscient narrative voice isn’t used often, and usually not for a whole book. In this prologue it works because these are not characters or a situation we need to empathise with, but what we’re going to investigate. Being kept at a distance gives us a sense of the large scope of the mystery, and enhances our interest in finding out what’s going on.
This narrative choice limits empathy – we aren’t given any insight into what the characters know or feel. But that increases the sense of mystery. If we had access to the thoughts or emotions of the two characters we’re introduced to, we would know their theories about why the flowers are sent, and understand why the old man weeps. The fact that we don’t makes us more intrigued to find out what lies behind this strange crime. The omniscient point of view also clarifies what will drive the novel – we will be investigating this mystery as a detective, from the outside. Lastly, the distance enhances the sense of a big world, containing a mystery that hasn’t been solved even after 44 years.
An omniscient narrative voice isn’t used often, and usually not for a whole book. In this prologue it works because these are not characters or a situation we need to empathise with, but what we’re going to investigate. Being kept at a distance gives us a sense of the large scope of the mystery, and enhances our interest in finding out what’s going on.
Editor’s Notes
In this scene our series protagonist, Detective Josie Quinn, is chasing down a man she believes has abducted a child. The tension is high because the stakes are high – if Josie doesn’t capture the man, she can’t save the girl.
The author uses an immediate change in pace at the start of the chapter, describing a slight pause before the reader is catapulted into the scene with a dramatic shoot out. Using short sentences to mirror the gunfire, the opening lines are a series of actions, describing how quickly everything is unfolding. And then there is a dramatic pause as everything goes quiet, and we’re left wondering if Josie and her colleague are going to survive. Our heroine is vulnerable and even though the gunshots have stopped, we know the killer is still at large, waiting to pounce.
At the very end of the scene, we know that Josie has been captured. As the author describes the crunch of leaves and Josie’s world going black, it leaves the reader desperate to find out what happens next. Does she make it out alive? What happened to her colleague? And will she save the missing girl? All of these questions will only be answered if the reader carries on and dives straight into the next chapter.
Editor’s Notes
In this extract, Nina Winchester – the woman of the house – seems to have wilfully made a mess, and accuses Millie (our eponymous housemaid) of throwing out some important notes. Her husband, Andrew Winchester, calms the situation down and seems to sympathise with Millie.
In this extract, we are privy to just one scene – one moment or interaction in the characters’ lives – and this one moment takes up an entire chapter. This is a hallmark of McFadden’s writing: rather than tell us about events after they have happened, we get glimpses of immediate action. This makes the book feel pacy, fast and immersive: we are plunged into a moment and live it right alongside our characters.
In terms of the scene itself, events happen quickly. Details are given about Nina destroying the kitchen on the first page. In the second page, an argument and discussion unfolds between Nina and Millie. On the last page, Nina leaves the room and the pace slows down a little: it’s the calm after the storm. This quieter moment is just as important as the drama and near-violence on previous pages for delivering satisfying pace.
Tension is created in the very first line. A woman is ‘systematically destroying’ her own kitchen. It’s an unusual, violent act: the contrast between the destruction itself and the idyllic domestic setting is what creates tension.
Tension is often created via conflict. This doesn’t just mean an argument between characters: it can be opposing views or subtly opposing motives; or a contradiction between what we say or do and what we mean. Nina says Millie took or threw away her notes; Millie is certain she did not do this; and Andrew believes Millie over his own wife, but he doesn’t make this clear to Nina herself. A husband and the housemaid are subtly ranked against the wife. Tension is thus created between the three characters: who do we believe? What are Nina and Andrew’s motives for their actions?
Tension is also created when a character seems to lie to themselves. There is conflict between what they say and do, and what we as readers believe they might truly think. Mille thinks to herself ‘Nina isn’t the person she used to be. But it doesn’t matter. It’s none of my business.’ As readers, we subtly disagree and almost don’t believe Millie. It feels like a lie she is telling herself: an attempt to brush off the strange situation she finds herself in. Of course she would be curious about why Nina is the way she is. As readers, we are certainly curious, and we are compelled to read on to find out.
Editor’s Notes
The opening line of this extract – in this case the prologue of the novel – clearly delivers three key pieces of information about the book. The reader immediately knows there is a body on the beach, a woman connected to that body and the setting is a quiet seaside village. This is excellent for kicking off the story at an exciting pace because the reader has been given an intriguing opening line to entice them into the story. They haven’t had to wade through lots of text to work out what’s going on. Having an opening line that sets up intrigue and throws readers into the heart of the story is likely going to pull them in and keep them reading.
The setting is then reinforced along with the fact there is a body and lots of activity from police and forensics, indicating there’s a story to unfold about what’s happened. There’s lots of hints that the circumstances are untoward, creating tension.
Details about the setting such as the storm rolling in, are used to create further tension in the prologue.
The end of the prologue then goes back to remind the reader all of this is being observed by a woman watching from a window nearby. There’s tension around her character and how she’s observing things: she’s not gone out to help and seems strangely unemotional. And then the prologue ends with a number of punchy lines to reveal that the woman is connected to the body on the sand – he is the man she once loved. The line ‘He was popular with the opposite sex, too popular, if anything’ is simple but does a lot in terms of hinting to the reader that there are complex relationship issues here.
Then the prologue ends on the line ‘And that was one of the reasons why he was now dead.’ This is a superb final line of the prologue because it leaves the reader with lots of questions about what happened and why. This will encourage them to turn the page to discover the story. Cliffhanger chapter endings are really important for pace because you don’t want a reader to come to the end of a chapter and think it’s the perfect place for them to stop reading, you want to create intrigue so that they feel they have to flip the page and keep reading.
Editor’s Notes
This extract from the first chapter of The Lost Girls of Ireland creates the tension at the heart of the protagonist Lydia’s story by setting up a seemingly impossible, dramatic and emotional situation to be resolved. The reader learns that Lydia’s husband has suddenly died, leaving her to raise her daughter alone, and is informed that Lydia must now face up to secrets he hid from her for years. Tension is created when the reader is told that Lydia is in dire financial straits and she needs to keep a low profile as a result of her husband’s death, but the consequences of her next steps are not explained on the page, and this omission creates tension too, allowing readers’ imaginations to go wild.
When Lydia explains how her husband died, the writer takes time so that readers can empathise with her and become immersed in the scene, then short sharp sentences reveal further complications that make the unfolding of this information pacy. The ebb and flow of the narrative is just as important for pace. Lydia owns a cottage in Kerry she could escape to, but the author chooses her words carefully here: Lydia’s lawyer says it ‘could’ be her salvation, so the tension remains. In this difficult situation, will Lydia and her daughter be OK? A cliffhanger final sentence to keep readers on the edge of their seats. This is the perfect example of an author quickly introducing tension and controlling pace.
Editor’s Notes
In terms of pace, in this extract we quickly move through two contrasting scenes. Domestic bliss in the happy, idyllic Christmas Day at the Weatherall household; and a cold, significantly less inviting apartment building, where an intimidating landlord threatens Anna. Moving quickly between these two opposing scenes creates pace. The conversation with the landlord unfolds quickly – it’s a ‘pacy’ scene – and once Gabe gets him to leave, we again move on to a tense conversation between Anna and Gabe. The book moves quickly between scenes and moments, and the atmosphere and energy in each scene is different: this difference creates satisfying pace.
Tension is created by conflict. Gabe wants to take care of Anna; Anna is saying she is OK, but it’s quite clear to us as readers that she is lying to herself about the threat the landlord poses. And the biggest factor contributing to the tension in the latter scene is the fact Anna is lying to Gabe about something bigger. Gabe believes that Anna’s mother will be returning to the apartment. But hints are continually dropped that Anna is hiding something: she thinks to herself that she isn’t prepared to answer his questions, she doesn’t have a reasonable explanation, and she continually diverts attention from herself on purpose. All this adds to the tension. Once he leaves, tension is reduced – Anna has what she wants and starts to relax a little. And the final lines give us a big answer: her mother is never returning. She’s been lying to Gabe the whole time. This serves to partially resolve tension. We know now why Anna has been lying and hiding things but an undercurrent of tension still remains: what has happened to her mother and why is she lying about her absence?
Resolution reduces tension: but resolution is a very necessary step. A novel that is entirely tense all the time would not be a satisfying read. Tension must be constantly introduced, resolved and reintroduced again.
Resolution reduces tension: but resolution is a very necessary step. A novel that is entirely tense all the time would not be a satisfying read. Tension must be constantly introduced, resolved and reintroduced again.
In the space of just a few paragraphs, we are taken on a satisfying reader journey where the variations in tension serve to create pace.
Editor’s Notes
This chapter starts with the idea of change and moving on – there are workmen in the narrator Jo’s childhood home, smashing the old mantelpiece to bits as part of renovations. So right away we’re introducing the reader to this idea of renewal, growth and blowing the cobwebs away. And it is what is found behind the old mantelpiece that kicks off our whole story – the note and the flower. Jo has many questions about the note written in German and the ancient pressed flower, and hopefully these questions mirror those of the reader – who was the note for, and why? Why did her mother or father keep this? What could it mean? So from this seemingly mundane and very relatable act of renovating a childhood home, we have a sense of pace here: things are unfolding quickly and the reader should already have many burning questions they wish to read on to answer. We’re increasing the reader’s investment in the situation and story right from the start by dropping in this point of intrigue.
Coupled with this, we are shown a protagonist on the edge of her own renewal and growth – she is getting divorced at the same time her daughter is planning her wedding and she feels left behind, like the world is moving on without her. So the tension here comes from being on this edge: Jo is on the cusp of change in her own life, will she throw herself into it? Or stay stuck? Again, increasing reader investment in the character journey helps to make the pace feel satisfying for the reader – it already feels like they are in the thick of things with the protagonist, though it is only Chapter 1.
Then at the very end of the chapter we have a very clear call to action: ‘I knew. It was time. Time to talk about the war.’ This final line of the chapter is so full of promise – the reader knows there’s a big story coming here, an unravelling of a family dynamic and Jo’s place in it. Everything is about to change for the characters in the biggest of ways, secrets will be revealed. Again, the tension here comes from the wanting to know – what are the secrets coming? How will Jo get through this? And on a more straightforward pacing level, ending the chapter in this way clearly signposts to the reader exactly what they are reading on to find out and that is it coming immediately – we have our burning question.
Ominous or foreboding
This chapter ending is not a cliffhanger as it does not end mid-scene. Rather, we have a hanging question: we know that something bad has happened and we need to read on to see if the protagonist has killed a man.
Statement
In this ending the protagonist asserts the questions that they have about Jack and states that they have a plan to find the answers. We want to read along with them to discover the answers.
True Cliffhanger
A girl is missing and we do not know where she is or what has happened to her. The scene is broken up by the phone call which reveals a moment of high tension, and we must keep reading to discover what has happened.
Emotional or poignant AND Key change AND Statement
Not all chapter endings fit neatly into one of the above definitions and many fuse certain elements from each one.
In this case, the ending has emotional or poignant notes because the reader feels a swell of excitement for the future of this character, who is looking ahead with optimism.
You could also characterise this ending as a key change – when put in the context with the rest of chapter, the preceding text describes the character reaching rock bottom in her life and wanting to escape her negative experiences.
It is also a statement, in that it is literally stating ‘Connie was on her way’ – and through this statement it achieves the emotional swell.
In this case, the ending has emotional or poignant notes because the reader feels a swell of excitement for the future of this character, who is looking ahead with optimism.
You could also characterise this ending as a key change – when put in the context with the rest of chapter, the preceding text describes the character reaching rock bottom in her life and wanting to escape her negative experiences.
It is also a statement, in that it is literally stating ‘Connie was on her way’ – and through this statement it achieves the emotional swell.
Ominous or foreboding
In this case, the bad incident has already happened – the baby has been swapped. But there is then the implicit foreboding of what this woman will do with the protagonist’s baby.
Ominous or foreboding
Endings of course do not sit in isolation and their emotional impact is based on the context preceding them.
In the scenes immediately leading up to this ending of the first chapter of Phantasma, we learn that the protagonist Ophelia was casting a spell. The heartbeat in the locket is a result of this spell and readers feel that they must read on to discover what the heartbeat represents and whether it is a good or a bad thing.
In the scenes immediately leading up to this ending of the first chapter of Phantasma, we learn that the protagonist Ophelia was casting a spell. The heartbeat in the locket is a result of this spell and readers feel that they must read on to discover what the heartbeat represents and whether it is a good or a bad thing.

