To Hook and Hook Again - Jen Doktorski

The hook. In music, it’s often that combination of melody and lyrics that seems familiar and yet brand new at the time. That signature guitar riff—think “Satisfaction” by the Rolling Stones—or a chorus that has you chiming in by the second verse. “Sing us a song, you’re the piano man!” That infectious payoff that makes you stay with the song, and makes the song stay with you.

With books or screenplays, the hook could be the premise (a girl takes her sister’s place in a fight to the death), the voice (Pony Boy Curtis), the plot (There’s a monster living in the sewers of Derry, Maine), or a killer first line.

“When I stepped out into the bright sunlight from the darkness of the movie house, I had only two things on my mind: Paul Newman and a ride home."

“You are not the kind of guy who would be at a place like this at this time of the morning.”

"Aujourd'hui, maman est morte” or Mother died today.

“As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a gangster.”

But unlike a three-minute pop song, in writing, repeating the same hook is boring. The first line is the earworm, that thing that grabs peoples’ attention, but as authors we need to work hard at continually reeling readers in—to build into our plot moments that re-hook them.

It’s like at Thanksgiving dinner when your great uncle is telling that exceedingly long story about the time he hiked the Appalachian trail with only a canteen and a walking stick, eating berries and tree back along the way. Sure, it could be an epic tale of perseverance and survival, but you’ve heard it all before, and somewhere near the Pennsylvania border, your eyes glaze over and Aunt Millie falls asleep, prompting your uncle to snap his fingers loudly and yell “Hey, hey! Are you all still listening?!”

We’re trying, Uncle, you want to say. But you’ve got to give us something here. Thwarted bear attack, snake bite, fist fight with a fellow hiker, a love story. Hell, we’ll even take a case of poison ivy, especially if it gets infected. Something that holds our attention and makes us want to take this thousand-mile trek with you.

The re-hook. It’s no simple task.

But it’s what keeps us turning the pages of War and Peace, Gone with the Wind, Lonesome Dove, and all nine Outlander novels. Moby Dick? Not so much. I’ve never gotten past, “Call me Ishmael.”

 

Jen Doktorski is the award-winning author of five young adult novels including the forthcoming FINDING NORMAL (Fitzroy Books 2025), FAMOUS LAST WORDS (Holt), a Bank Street College Best Children's Book of the Year and THE SUMMER AFTER YOU & ME (Sourcebooks), a YALSA Teens' Top Ten nominee. Visit her at www.jendoktorski.com or Instagram @jendoktorski.