brought out deliberately by the writer, and he cannot hope
to do so to the full unless before writing he realizes the necessity and
shapes his work accordingly. The point is of very great importance. It
would be hard to overestimate the number of potentially fine stories
that have been ruined through failure to realize that the main
situations or happenings of each fiction could not have full effect on a
reader unless many subtle matters of personality and spirit were
deliberately brought out in advance.

The first concern of the writer who has found his bare story is to
determine the order in which to cast both its major and minor events.
The necessity that the more important happenings of the story be given
some climactic arrangement, to hold and stimulate the reader's initial
interest, has been touched upon before, but the general ordering of
events is a matter of such importance that it will be discussed at
length.

The aim of any story is to interest, and the writer should endeavor to
touch his reader's interest as quickly as possible. Long, purposeless,
and therefore dull introductions--usually the result of the writer's
having set to work with no very definite idea of what he has to
do--should be avoided; the writer should consider precisely what his
story is, and then how he may best set it in motion without delay. The
technique is easy to state but hard to meet. Perhaps it may be possible
to set off with a happening sufficiently unique and striking in itself
to arouse a reader's interest; descriptive touches as to setting or as
to a character may be employed; or--after the fashion of some modern
writers--one may indulge in a little philosophical overture forecasting
the nature of the tale. A classification of the several ways to open a
story might be made, but it would not be useful. In the first place,
each good story is perfectly unique; in the second place, independent
reading of fiction will show the ways much more completely than mere
statement. One slight matter is perhaps worth noting. Often inherently
dull introductory matter can be given piquancy on the lips of a
narrating character.

The writer should not distort his story merely to begin it
interestingly. The aim of fiction is to interest, but the person to be
interested is the cultured reader, not the mere sensation-sop. If a
particular story is forbidden by its content to begin with a rush, it
should not be wrenched and distorted to that end. Th