Pachinko

A 3-part analysis of hooks & promises

Normally when I write about hooks I focus on how the writer sucks you in and doesn't let you go, and the techniques they use to do that. There's a science to hooks when you look at them in that way, like we did here.

But there's another, maybe more important aspect of hooks I want to explore today — how they set your story's tone and the Reader's expectations for everything to come.

Min Jin Lee's "Pachinko" offers a masterclass in this aspect of hook-writing. It’s both instantly interesting from the very first line as well as intentionally building the world she wants the Reader’s head space to be in for the rest of the story.

Let's dive into the opening paragraphs:

History has failed us, but no matter.

At the turn of the century, an aging fisherman and his wife decided to take in lodgers for extra money. Both were born and raised in the fishing village of Yeongdo—a five-mile-wide islet beside the port city of Busan. In their long marriage, the wife gave birth to three sons, but only Hoonie, the eldest and the weakest one, survived. Hoonie was born with a cleft palate and a twisted foot; he was, however, endowed with hefty shoulders, a squat build, and a golden complexion. Even as a young man, he retained the mild, thoughtful temperament he’d had as a child. When Hoonie covered his misshapen mouth with his hands, something he did out of habit meeting strangers, he resembled his nice-looking father, both having the same large, smiling eyes. Inky eyebrows graced his broad forehead, perpetually tanned from outdoor work. Like his parents, Hoonie was not a nimble talker, and some made the mistake of thinking that because he could not speak quickly there was something wrong with his mind, but that was not true.

In 1910, when Hoonie was twenty-seven years old, Japan annexed Korea. The fisherman and his wife, thrifty and hardy peasants, refused to be distracted by the country’s incompetent aristocrats and corrupt rulers, who had lost their nation to thieves. When the rent for their house was raised again, the couple moved out of their bedroom and slept in the anteroom near the kitchen to increase the number of lodgers.

Pachinko, Min Jin Lee

What makes these opening few paragraphs such a powerful hook? Let's break it down:

1. The Power of a Single Sentence

"History has failed us, but no matter."

This opening line is a hook in the traditional sense – it grabs your attention and makes you want to read more. But it's doing so much more than that. In seven words, Lee establishes:

• A sense of conflict

• A collective voice ("us")

• A tone of resilience (“but no matter”)

Lee promises the Reader a story about a group of people overcoming their history. You don’t yet know Who or When or even Where the story takes place, but this brilliant opening sentence makes one fundamental promise — that someone, sometime, somewhere fought back against the weight of hundreds of years of history to take their place in the world — and that is the story you are about to read.

It’s like a thesis statement for the entire story. It tells us that while historical forces will play a significant role in the story, the focus will be on how individuals persevere despite these forces.

There’s an interesting exercise here. I took a speaking course (Ultraspeaking) where one of the practices is scrunching up a 2 minute speech into 1 minute, then again from 1 minute to 30 seconds.

Lee, in this first sentence, condenses the rest of her 125,000+ word story into a single line.

This exercise serves 2 purposes. It…

• Forces you to “trim the fat” of your story so you see what it’s truly about.

• Forces you to condense the story to make it far more interesting.

If you get to pick, you want your Reader wanting more than wanting less. Can you condense your story down to one golden sentence?

2. Grounding in Time and Place

After the punchy first line, Lee immediately grounds us in a specific time and place:

"At the turn of the century, an aging fisherman and his wife decided to take in lodgers for extra money. Both were born and raised in the fishing village of Yeongdo—a five-mile-wide islet beside the port city of Busan."

This paragraph does several things:

• Sets the time period (turn of the century)

• Establishes the setting (a small fishing village in Korea)

• Introduces our initial characters

• Introduces immediate conflict (economic struggle)

Lee’s story is a sprawling epic. But she knows Readers need specifics early. Otherwise, well, we have a tendency to grow bored. If you can’t imagine a story in your mind,

When telling a story, provide enough context early on to orient your Reader. You don’t want them wandering for too long in the dark. If they do, they leave.

This doesn't mean info-dumping. Notice how Lee weaves these details into the narrative seamlessly.

Together, the first sentence and this more specific second paragraph set up a tension that runs throughout the story: The interplay between sweeping historical events and the daily lives of ordinary people. Lee further heightens this tension in the final paragraph, where she directly connects the personal struggles of her characters to the broader historical context of Japan's annexation of Korea.

3. Introducing Complexity Through Character

The last half of the second paragraph and the third paragraph introduces Hoonie, and it's a very intentional character introduction.

“In their long marriage, the wife gave birth to three sons, but only Hoonie, the eldest and the weakest one, survived. Hoonie was born with a cleft palate and a twisted foot…”

Lee could simply describe Hoonie’s physical appearance. The cleft palate and twisted foot. But what would you think of him then?

At least for me, I’d jump to conclusions. That he’s disabled in some way, that he may not be able to work, that, especially at this time in history, he would lead a hard life, and maybe be viewed as a burden to his family and village.

However, this is not the character Min Jin Lee has in mind.

So, she juxtaposes Hoonie’s physical disabilities with his strengths, both physical and temperamental. Though he does have those disabilities, he also has “a golden complexion” and “the mild, thoughtful temperament he’d had as a child.”

Now, after reading on, I feel foolish for making my assumptions a second earlier. Lee knows many Readers will take this view. And by defying those expectations, she creates a complex, three-dimensional character right from the start.

"Like his parents, Hoonie was not a nimble talker, and some made the mistake of thinking that because he could not speak quickly there was something wrong with his mind, but that was not true."

A little humble pie for me, the Reader, right out of the gate.

When introducing key characters, strive for complexity. Show their strengths alongside their weaknesses, and consider how they're perceived by others versus who they really are.

Storytellers – Your hook is a promise

Through these opening paragraphs, Lee makes five clear Promises to her Reader:

• This will be a story of resilience in the face of hardship. ("History has failed us, but no matter.")

• It will span generations. (We've already been introduced to three generations in this short opening.)

• It will deal with themes of prejudice, adaptation, and the dignity of ordinary people.

• The narrative will move between intimate, personal stories and broader historical events.

• The tone will be matter-of-fact, even when describing difficult circumstances, suggesting a story that doesn't shy away from hard truths but also doesn't wallow in misery.

Crafting a great hook isn't just about that attention-grabbing first line. I’d argue the attention-grabbing is the easy part. What’s more difficult and, what I’m realizing, also much more important, is how your opening sets up the rest of your story for success.

Your hook is a promise to your Reader. Consider what expectations you're setting – in terms of tone, theme, and scope – and make sure you're prepared to follow through on that promise in the rest of your work.

Have an awesome week,

Nathan