Everyone knows a pick-up line is nonsense, but it's the thought that counts, and the less thinking the better - in a certain situation, the conversation is going to happen, or not, and the pick-up line is the "fastest route from A-to-Z" method for figuring it out; street fundraisers seem to apply the same concept ("hey, do you care about starving kids?"). But I don't see this logic applied in many other situations, where the common practice seems to involve adhering strictly to the organization of a five-paragraph essay - introduction, support, conclusion. To put it another way, we don't seem to make much use of the cold open (which might explain why most of us never end up on SNL).
Priya Parker made a specific reference to this question of cold opens in The Art of Gathering, which I've written about a few times on TOA. Parker's suggestion is to use cold opens as a way to strengthen gatherings, with her specific recommendation that the opening is never the right time for logistics - use those first moments instead to connect guests with the purpose of the gathering. This is good advice, but perhaps best reserved for a future when gatherings - or pick-up lines, for that matter - are no longer counted among potential public health violations. Until that happy day, I'm trying to find ways to bring the logic of cold opens into the slow and steady reality of COVID-19.
One specific area I'm working on is right here on TOA - using cold opens in my writing. There's a peculiar problem a writer encounters when the only thing in sight is a blank page, or in my case a white screen with the blinking vertical line - you are overcome by a sudden madness to explain yourself, which leads to famous opening lines such as:
"I read a pretty interesting comment Wayne Rooney made about Sir Alex Ferguson, his manager while at Manchester United (longtime readers may recall I wrote about Ferguson's book at this time last year)."
The above is the opener from this post. I actually thought the post was pretty good, but that first sentence is a bit of a shocker - and I wrote it just two months ago! Honestly, it reads like an excuse, or maybe an apology - I'm sorry, but I'm going to write 500 more words about Manchester United. I'm not sure how I'd rewrite it, but I'd likely consider a way to link the first line to what I was going to say rather than what I was going to write.
I don't think I'm necessarily making progress toward "cold opening" my writing (and it's not always an appropriate tactic) but I know I'll improve soon enough; the nice thing about writing is that once you have a tactical idea in mind, it's hard to do anything except improve - each recurrence of the problem will stand out in the first draft the way a fresh coffee stain broadcasts itself from the collar of a white shirt, or a Manchester United crest sullies a clean jersey. I thought it was a good sign that I revised the first paragraph of last Sunday's essay to open with what I had initially crammed into a footnote - the original opening line was more or less a thesis statement on the misuse of "competitive" in the workplace, but I think it worked better to use a story where I end up becoming the butt of a running joke. It's possible that I'll realize the key to writing a good opening is akin to the advice I followed for writing a good ending - when an ending appears, grab it; I may need to write until I see the beginning, then start.
There is less I can present to the non-writer in my loyal crowd - and on Christmas Day, the occasion of all gift-giving occasions! Is it possible to make any other use of the cold open? I'd suggest, perhaps inappropriately, that today offers a hint - a Christmas gift is a special idea, but there's something a little five-paragraphs about the whole thing, right? The wrapping paper, the pile under the tree, the hints exchanged throughout the fall (or the outright swap of wish lists) - you might as well hire one of Santa's elves, hand him a bugle, and ask him to play a few notes before the ceremony of a Christmas morning; the whole process is overwhelming, and makes it hard to appreciate someone's generosity. So maybe, in the spirit of the cold open, 2021 can be an opportunity for thinking about presenting a gift in a slightly different way, or at a different time, where the pageantry of tradition can be put aside to help giver and receiver connect with the meaning of a gift; it's the thought that counts, and the more thinking the better.
