First Impressions.

I’ve just started reading a book I picked off the shelf on a whim. It’s not my usual cup of tea — space opera — but the title caught my eye and after thumbing through a few pages, I decided to give it a try.

The villain is introduced immediately, which doesn’t bother me. What makes my head tilt to the side much like a puzzled dog’s is that he is introduced as the villain immediately, if that makes sense. In other words, the kind of actions that make a reader go, “Holy shit, they’re a twisted, maniacal kitten killer!” are the first impression of this character.

And it’s done well. Really well, actually, in that I was horrified by reading it. Vivid, creative, effective. Yet… I feel like I’m cheated a little as a reader, as if it could have been even more effective if my first glimpse of this character had happened during his “safe” mode, creating a gentler first impression that would have been turned upside down as it extended into the full scene.

Instead, the character is firmly entrenched in my mind as Crazy Madman Baby Eater, and he’s going to stay that way. Oh sure, depending on where the story goes, he may become Crazy Madman Baby Eater who likes to quietly garden, or Crazy Madman Baby Eater who loves his pet mutant bird, but these details, if they happen, will remain secondary.

Why? Because first impressions stick with us, no matter what. Even if further characteristics smudge them. Even if a twist ending completely obliterates them. They’re still there, a faint outline that can’t be completely erased.