How Do I Create Intrigue in My Story’s First 5 Pages?

Readers don’t give books much time.

They might pick one up in a bookstore, read the first few pages, and decide if they’ll buy it. They might download a sample on their Kindle, skim a few paragraphs, and make their choice. If nothing grabs them—if they don’t feel curious, compelled, unsettled, or intrigued—they move on.

This is why the first five pages are critical. You don’t have time to ease into the story, to explain everything, to gradually build interest. You need to hook the reader immediately—but without gimmicks, without overloading them with exposition, without making it feel forced.

So how do you do that? What makes the difference between an opening that grabs readers and won’t let go—and one that makes them put the book down?

Let’s break it down.


1. Open With a Question That Demands an Answer

One of the simplest ways to create intrigue is to pose a question in the reader’s mind—something they want, need, have to know the answer to.

This doesn’t mean you literally ask a question in the text—it means something about the opening creates curiosity.

Examples:

  • Rebecca (Daphne du Maurier): “Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again.” (Why is the narrator dreaming about this place? What happened there?)
  • The Martian (Andy Weir): “I’m pretty much f***ed.” (Why? What happened? What’s at stake?)
  • Jane Eyre (Charlotte Brontë): Jane begins her story under oppression, observing the weather outside while knowing she’s trapped inside. (Why is she trapped? Who is keeping her there?)

Readers don’t need all the information upfront—but they need a reason to turn the page.

👉 Test it: If a reader only sees your first sentence, do they feel compelled to keep going? If not, look for ways to hint at something deeper, something unanswered, something unresolved.


2. Drop the Reader Into Motion—Not Explanation

One of the fastest ways to kill intrigue is by starting with a block of exposition.

  • If your first pages are explaining the worldbuilding, the backstory, or the main character’s life before anything happens, the reader has no reason to care yet.
  • If the book opens with a long history of the kingdom, an explanation of magic rules, or a description of a character’s morning routine, you’re making the reader work too hard before they’re invested.

Instead, start with movement. Start in the middle of something.

Examples:

  • The Hunger Games (Suzanne Collins): The first sentence tells us Katniss wakes up to find her sister gone—and immediately, we’re in the story, moving with her.
  • The Road (Cormac McCarthy): Opens with a father and son already traveling through a desolate world, forcing the reader to piece together what happened rather than being told.
  • Big Little Lies (Liane Moriarty): Begins after a murder has already happened, forcing the reader to figure out what led to it.

👉 Fix it: If your opening pages are filled with explanation instead of movement, try cutting the exposition and starting where things are already in motion. Let the world and backstory unfold naturally as the reader follows the action.


3. Give the Reader Something to Worry About

Intrigue isn’t just about big mysteries—it’s about tension, discomfort, unease. If nothing feels off, if nothing is at risk, the reader has no reason to keep going.

Ways to create immediate tension:

  • Something is out of place. (A normal setting, but one detail is wrong—something feels off.)
  • The protagonist is on edge. (Even if the reader doesn’t know why yet, they sense the unease.)
  • An unspoken conflict is brewing. (Two people interacting, but something about the exchange feels tense, unbalanced.)
  • A clock is already ticking. (A deadline, a looming event, an impending disaster—even if the reader doesn’t yet understand the full stakes.)

Examples:

  • We Have Always Lived in the Castle (Shirley Jackson): Opens with an unsettling, detached narrator describing her town with a sense of eerie familiarity and fear.
  • Sharp Objects (Gillian Flynn): Opens with a journalist being sent to cover a murder in her hometown—a place she clearly does not want to return to.
  • Never Let Me Go (Kazuo Ishiguro): The narrator starts talking about something that feels normal—but there’s an underlying sense that something is deeply wrong about this world.

👉 Fix it: If your first pages feel flat, add a layer of tension—even if the reader doesn’t fully understand what’s at stake yet.


4. Establish a Strong, Distinct Voice

Readers don’t just fall in love with what happens—they fall in love with how it’s told.

A book’s voice is often what hooks readers before they even know what the story is about. If the voice is engaging, immersive, compelling, they’ll follow it anywhere—even if they don’t yet understand where the story is going.

Examples of voice-driven openings:

  • The Catcher in the Rye (J.D. Salinger): “If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you’ll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like…” (Instantly tells you who this character is.)
  • The Night Circus (Erin Morgenstern): “The circus arrives without warning.” (Simple, but poetic—creates instant curiosity.)
  • The Secret History (Donna Tartt): “The snow in the mountains was melting and Bunny had been dead for several weeks before we came to understand the gravity of our situation.” (Wait… what happened to Bunny?)

👉 Fix it: Read your first page out loud. Does the voice feel distinctive? Engaging? Like someone worth listening to? If not, try rewriting with a sharper focus on tone and personality.


5. Make Sure There’s a Clear Thread Leading Forward

The first five pages aren’t about answering questions—they’re about making the reader desperate for answers.

Every strong opening does one crucial thing: it pulls the reader toward something.

  • A mystery that needs solving.
  • A problem that needs fixing.
  • A question that needs answering.

If your first pages feel aimless, like they’re just setting the scene without establishing momentum, readers might drift away.

Examples:

  • The Girl on the Train (Paula Hawkins): We meet a narrator watching a couple from her train window—but something about them feels off, and we don’t know why yet.
  • The Road (Cormac McCarthy): A father and son are walking toward something—we don’t know what, but we feel the pull of their journey.
  • The Bell Jar (Sylvia Plath): The narrator is in New York, seemingly successful—but there’s an unease in her voice, a sense of disconnection that hints at what’s coming.

👉 Fix it: If your opening pages don’t make the reader wonder what’s next, you might need a stronger narrative thread—something pulling them forward.


Final Thoughts: How to Make Your First Pages Impossible to Ignore

Readers don’t give books endless chances. If they aren’t hooked within the first five pages, they probably won’t keep reading.

So before you move forward, ask yourself:
✅ Does my opening pose a question the reader needs answered?
✅ Does it drop them into motion, rather than explaining things upfront?
✅ Does it introduce tension or unease—something to worry about?
✅ Does the voice feel strong, compelling, and distinct?
✅ Is there a clear forward pull, making them want to keep turning pages?

Because the best first pages don’t just introduce a story.

They dare the reader to stop reading.

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