A prologue should feel inevitable, not optional. Here’s how to write a prologue that sets the hook and hands off cleanly to Chapter 1.
DON’T MISS WHAT’S COMING NEXT
Wordling Plus is where serious writers come for systems, strategy, and support. Doors only open a few times a year — and the waitlist always hears first (with bonuses no one else sees).
👉 Add your name to the waitlist and don’t miss the next round.
A prologue is a tool, not a tradition. In fiction, it’s the “before” that changes how we read the “now”—a short opening move that sets stakes, frames danger, or drops a question so sharp the reader follows you into Chapter One without checking their phone. It’s different from the first chapter because it isn’t trying to start the whole story. It’s trying to tilt the story.
The catch: prologues are famously overused and badly used. Not every fantasy novel needs one. Not every backstory deserves airtime. The difference is knowing what your prologue is doing—and whether it’s doing it better than Chapter One could.
What a prologue is (and what it’s not)
In fiction writing, a prologue is an intentional opening that comes before the main narrative begins. Its job isn’t to start the story, but to frame it—by setting context, mood, or tension that will change how the reader experiences Chapter One.
The idea comes from the Greek prologos, later echoed in Shakespeare’s use of a Chorus: a brief scene that prepares the audience for what’s ahead. In modern works of fiction, a great prologue might jump to a different time, use a different point of view, or spotlight a moment of danger or meaning the main plot can’t reach yet. What it should never do is duplicate the first chapter. If it does, it’s not a prologue—it’s just misplaced.
When you should write a prologue (and when you shouldn’t)
A prologue is only worth it if it earns its keep. Think of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet: the Chorus works because it frames the tragedy and changes how we watch every scene that follows. successful prologue does the same thing in a modern key—it adds pressure, context, or intrigue that Chapter One can’t deliver as cleanly.
Write a prologue when it genuinely helps:
- You need a time jump or a “different moment in time” that sets the story in motion.
- The reader needs world-building context or a key condition of the world that would bog down Chapter One.
- You want foreshadowing or a clue the reader will carry through the rest of the novel.
- An important event happens that the main character can’t witness, but the reader should.
Skip the prologue when it hurts:
- It delays the real start and makes readers work to reach the main character.
- It repeats backstory you could reveal naturally in-scene.
- It’s basically Chapter One wearing a different hat.
- You’re writing a short story, or a nonfiction book, where momentum and directness usually matter more than an extra frame.
Market reality (especially for Kindle): On Amazon, the prologue sits in the sample. So if you use one, make it an effective prologue—hook fast, stay lean, and don’t spend your “free pages” on throat-clearing.
Quick test: If you cut the prologue, does Chapter One still make perfect sense and start with more energy? If yes, you probably don’t need it. If no—if you lose essential context, tension, or meaning—then your prologue is earning its place.
📌 Pro Tip: Write Chapter One first, then write the prologue last. That way you’ll know exactly what Chapter One can carry on its own—and what only a prologue can do.
The dos: How to write a compelling prologue
A good prologue has one job: make the reader want Chapter One more, not less. These dos keep it sharp, purposeful, and genuinely additive.
- Start with an intriguing hook: Open on a moment that creates immediate curiosity—danger, discovery, a wrong decision, a secret—then tether it to the main plot so it doesn’t feel like a random appetizer.
- Set the right tone: Let the reader feel the genre from the first line: dread in thrillers, unease in horror, awe in science fiction, wonder in fantasy, tenderness in romance.
- Keep it short and relevant: Give just enough context to sharpen the story’s edge, then get out. If you’re explaining instead of escalating, you’re probably overwriting.
- Use POV strategically: A different point of view can reveal something the main character can’t know yet, or show the “other side” of the story. If your book is written in first person, a third person prologue can give the reader information your protagonist doesn’t have access to. A flashback can work too—if it delivers essential tension, not a history lesson.
- Make it connect to the whole: Seed a symbol, a question, or a stake you’ll pay off later in the rest of the book. The reader should finish the prologue feeling like the story has already begun—just not in the obvious place.
📌 Pro Tip: Write your prologue as if it will be the only thing some readers ever see. If it can’t stand on its own as a compelling, self-contained scene—with tension, clarity, and momentum—it’s not ready to earn its place before Chapter One.
The don’ts: Common mistakes that ruin prologues
A prologue should feel like part of the story, not a throat-clearing exercise before the “real” book begins. These are the mistakes that make readers skip ahead to the opening scene and never look back.
- Don’t info-dump: If your prologue reads like background notes or a world history lesson, it’s doing the wrong job. Readers want motion, not a textbook.
- Don’t spoil your own story: Tease trouble, don’t hand over the twist. The prologue should raise questions, not answer the biggest one immediately.
- Don’t write atmosphere only: Mood is great, but mood without plot purpose is just weather. If nothing changes or threatens to change, it’s not earning page one.
- Don’t start slow on purpose: A prologue is not the place for long histories, extended backstory, or “once upon a time” warm-ups. Get to the pressure quickly.
- Don’t lean on clichés unless you’re deliberately subverting them: Ancient prophecies, dream diaries, generic battles—these can work, but only if you’re doing something fresh with them.
- Don’t confuse forms: A prologue isn’t an epilogue, and it shouldn’t duplicate Chapter One. If it functions like your first chapter, call it Chapter One.
- Don’t let templates write it for you: Templates can help you check structure, but a prologue can’t feel copy-pasted. It has to feel specific to this book and this voice.
📌 Pro Tip: If your prologue’s main purpose is “explain the world,” rewrite it as a scene where someone wants something and something blocks them. Explanation should be the byproduct, not the point.
How to seamlessly weave your prologue into the main story
The secret to a prologue that works is that it stops being “the prologue” pretty quickly. Once Chapter One starts, the reader shouldn’t be thinking about structure at all—they should just feel a faint thread pulling through the book, tightening as the story unfolds.
- Make the hand-off clear: Signal the shift in time, place, or point of view so the reader doesn’t feel dropped. A timestamp, location tag, or clean scene break is often enough—then Chapter One starts with confidence.
- Plant something you can pay off: Reuse an image, object, line, or detail later in the main narrative so the prologue feels essential to the rest of the story. The reader should eventually think, “Oh. That’s why we opened there.”
- Let it shape character and stakes: The prologue should add weight to the main character’s goals or raise the stakes of the main plot. Even if the protagonist isn’t on the page yet, the prologue can create a threat, a promise, or a question that follows them.
- Handle background information with restraint: If you need background details, embed them in action and implication. The prologue isn’t a preface; it’s still a scene.
- Be genre-smart about reveals: In thrillers and science fiction, use prologue clues to build suspense, not to steal thunder. Ideally, the reader discovers meaning alongside the hero—no duplicate reveals, no “as you know, Bob” explanations.
📌 Pro Tip: Choose one “anchor” from the prologue—a symbol, object, location, or line—and bring it back three times across the book, each time with new meaning. That’s how a prologue stops feeling optional.
A quick checklist: Does your prologue work?
Prologues tend to inspire strong feelings on both sides: some readers love them, some skip them on sight. This checklist keeps you out of the danger zone by making sure yours is doing clear, purposeful work—and not just taking up page one because it felt “novel-ish.”
- It earns the next page: It raises the reader’s interest and leads naturally into the opening chapter.
- The POV is doing real work: The point of view choice serves the main narrative, not just novelty.
- It orients without explaining: The reader understands enough to stay with you, without a backstory dump or a flashback that stalls momentum.
- It changes the book: If you removed it, the rest of the novel would lose tension, meaning, or context—not just a few pages.
- It’s strong in the sample: On Amazon/Kindle, it hooks quickly because it’s likely what browsers see first.
- It fits your genre’s expectations: Thrillers, sci-fi, and literary fiction can all use prologues—but the type of prologue has to match the reading experience you’re promising.
📌 Pro Tip: If you’re unsure, give the prologue to a reader without telling them it’s a prologue. Ask one question: “Would you keep going?” Their answer will be more honest than yours.
Start where the story starts
If you can cut your prologue and the story still sings, start at Chapter 1—and let the reader’s attention carry you through the rest of the novel. A prologue is only worth keeping when it sharpens the book: more tension, more meaning, more momentum. Otherwise, it’s just one more door between your reader and the story they came for.
And if you want more practical craft notes like this, plus the kind of publishing insight writers usually learn mid-panic, sign up for The Wordling’s weekly newsletter—smart, funny, and full of the stuff that helps your pages land.
DON’T MISS WHAT’S COMING NEXT
Wordling Plus is where serious writers come for systems, strategy, and support. Doors only open a few times a year — and the waitlist always hears first (with bonuses no one else sees).
👉 Add your name to the waitlist and don’t miss the next round.
