How to Write a Prologue That’s Actually Good (And When to Skip It Entirely)

As the first writing blog post of the year, I decided to start with a problem I’m facing with my own manuscript: writing a prologue. Prologues are one of the most divisive topics in fiction writing. Some readers skip them entirely. In fact, there was this whole discourse about it on Twitter last year. I, for one, like prologues. But then I’ll read anything if it’s good. 

And of course: some of the most iconic pieces in literature—Game of Thrones, Romeo and Juliet, The Pillars of the Earth—all open with prologues that are absolute masterclasses. So what’s the deal? What is a prologue, really, and why does it spark so much debate?

Here’s the simple answer: A prologue is a section that comes before Chapter One, introducing key information—backstory, context, or setup—that helps readers understand the main story. It’s meant to hook you, establish the world, and create intrigue before the narrative properly begins.

But here’s the problem: most prologues don’t do that. Instead, they’re infodumps disguised as introductions. They’re history lectures that bore readers before the story even starts. When done right, though? A well-written prologue can hook your reader immediately, establish your world with precision, and set up stakes that make Chapter One impossible to put down.

So in this post, let’s go into detail about prologues, their purpose, when to use them and—most importantly—how to write a prologue that grabs readers instead of losing them. If you’ve been debating whether your story needs a prologue, or if you aren’t sure if your prologue’s working, this guide will help you decide. Let’s go.

What is a Prologue?

According to the Cambridge Dictionary, a prologue is:

A part that comes at the beginning of a play, story, or long poem, often giving information about events that happened before the time when the play, story, or poem begins.

In simpler terms: a prologue is a section that appears before Chapter One of your book. It introduces important information—like backstory, context, or key events—that helps readers understand the main narrative.

The word “prologue” comes from the Greek prologos, meaning “before word.” Historically, Ancient Greek dramatists like Euripides used prologues in tragedies such as Medea to set the scene before the main action started. They functioned like a first act, giving the audience essential context upfront.

In modern literature, a prologue in a book serves a similar purpose. It’s a piece of writing separate from the main story that introduces characters, themes, or settings whose relevance might not be immediately obvious. It sets up the narrative without dumping everything in the reader’s lap at once.

What Makes a Prologue Different?

A prologue isn’t just the first chapter with a different label. It’s structurally and functionally separate from the rest of your story. Here’s what that means:

• It often takes place at a different time (past or future) than Chapter One
• It might use a different point of view or narrative style
• It provides setup that would feel out of place or clunky in the opening chapter
• It’s shorter and more focused than a typical chapter

The goal is to give readers just enough information to understand what’s coming—without overwhelming them or slowing down the main story.

Prologue vs. Other Front Matter

It’s important not to confuse a prologue with other types of front matter you might see in books:

• Preface: Usually a short account by the author explaining the origins, development, or aims of the book. Non-fiction only.
• Foreword: Often written by someone other than the author—like a critic or expert—to connect the themes to their own experience. Can appear in fiction or non-fiction.
• Introduction: A summary chapter, primarily used in non-fiction, outlining the argument and contents to come.

Unlike these, a prologue is always a work of fiction and is always part of the narrative itself. It’s not the author talking to you—it’s the story beginning.

What is the Difference Between a Prologue and Epilogue?

Another common question: what’s the difference between a prologue and an epilogue?

• Prologue: Comes before the story begins. It sets up context, backstory, or key events that help you understand what’s about to unfold.
• Epilogue: Comes after the main story ends. It shows the aftermath, reveals what happens to characters later, or ties up loose ends.

Think of it this way: A prologue is the “before,” and an epilogue is the “after.” Both sit outside the main narrative timeline, but they serve opposite functions—one primes you for the journey, the other gives you closure after it’s done.

What is the Purpose of a Prologue? (And What Does It Actually Do)

So you know what a prologue is. But what is the purpose of a prologue, and what function does it actually serve in your story?

A good prologue isn’t just decoration. It has a job to do—and if it’s not doing that job effectively, it shouldn’t be there. Here are the main purposes a prologue serves:

1. Introducing Key Details

A prologue sets the scene by introducing important characters, themes, or story worlds that would feel awkward or clunky to explain in Chapter One. This is especially useful in fantasy or sci-fi, where readers need to understand how your world works before diving into the main action.

For example, if your protagonist lives in a society with complex political structures or magic systems, the prologue can establish those rules upfront so Chapter One can hit the ground running.

2. Hooking the Reader

The best prologues don’t just set up—they hook. They hint at the action to come, setting up an intriguing scenario that makes readers wonder, “How did we arrive here?” or “What happens next?”

This is why prologues often open with high-stakes moments: a death, a betrayal, a mysterious event. They create immediate tension that pulls you into the story.

3. Providing Context

Sometimes, there’s background information readers absolutely need to understand the major events happening later in the book. A prologue helps deliver that context without bogging down your opening chapter with exposition.

For instance, if your story hinges on a traumatic event from the protagonist’s childhood, showing that event in a prologue gives readers the emotional foundation they need to understand the character’s motivations in Chapter One.

4. Establishing Tone

A prologue is your chance to establish the mood and atmosphere of your story right away. Is this a dark, suspenseful thriller? A whimsical fantasy? A gritty historical drama? The prologue sets that tone early, so readers know what kind of experience they’re in for.

5. Sparking Curiosity

A well-written prologue poses a question that the rest of the book will eventually answer. It helps the reader’s appetite by introducing a mystery, a conflict, or an unanswered “why” that keeps them turning pages.

The function of a prologue, ultimately, is to enhance the story—not to act as a crutch for a weak opening or a dumping ground for information you couldn’t figure out how to weave in naturally. If your prologue isn’t doing at least one of these jobs effectively, it might not belong in your book.

When to Use a Prologue (And When to Skip It)

One of the biggest questions writers face: when should you actually use a prologue?

The answer isn’t straightforward because prologues aren’t inherently good or bad—they’re tools. And like any tool, they work brilliantly in the right situations and fall flat in the wrong ones.

So let’s understand when a prologue makes sense, when you should skip it entirely, and how to decide which camp your story falls into.

When a Prologue Works:

1. Essential backstory that can’t be woven in naturally

If there’s a piece of backstory so crucial that readers must know it before Chapter One, and it would feel forced or awkward to reveal it through dialogue or flashbacks later, a prologue might be your best bet.

For example, if your protagonist witnessed a traumatic event as a child that shapes everything they do in the present timeline, showing that event in a prologue can give readers the emotional context they need from page one.

2. Different time period or POV that sets up the main story

Prologues work well when they take place years (or even centuries) before the main narrative begins. They can show a pivotal historical event, introduce a villain’s origin story, or reveal a prophecy that kicks off the plot—without disrupting the flow of your main timeline.

They’re also useful for introducing a different point of view. Maybe your book is told from the protagonist’s perspective, but the prologue is written from the villain’s POV to create dramatic irony or mystery.

3. Establishing unique world rules (sci-fi/fantasy)

If you’re writing in a genre with complex worldbuilding—magic systems, alien civilizations, dystopian governments—a prologue can establish the rules of your world efficiently. Instead of front-loading Chapter One with exposition, you give readers a taste of how things work through a small, contained story.

4. Creating dramatic irony or suspense

Sometimes a prologue reveals information that the main characters don’t know yet, creating tension for the reader. We know the villain is coming. We know the prophecy is real. We know the protagonist is in danger—even if they don’t.

This technique, used brilliantly in books like Game of Thrones, makes readers invested from the very first page because we’re holding information the characters aren’t.

When to Skip It:

Sometimes, the best prologue is no prologue at all. Here’s when you should cut it:

1. It’s propping up a weak Chapter One

If you’re using a high-stakes prologue to compensate for a boring or slow first chapter, that’s a red flag. The solution isn’t to add a prologue, it’s to fix your opening.

If you want some guidance on writing a better first chapter, check out my blog post: On Writing the First Chapter of a Novel.

Your Chapter One should be strong enough to stand on its own. If it’s not, rewrite it. Don’t use a prologue as a band-aid.

2. The information can be revealed through dialogue or narrative later

If the backstory you’re including in the prologue can be woven into the main narrative naturally—through conversations, memories, or gradual reveals—you probably don’t need a separate section for it.

Readers are patient. They don’t need to know everything upfront. Trust them to stick with you as the story unfolds.

3. It defuses tension instead of building it

Giving away too much in a prologue can actually hurt your story. If you reveal the twist, explain the mystery, or spoil the stakes too early, you’re robbing your main narrative of its suspense.

A prologue should raise questions, not answer them all.

4. It feels nonessential

Ask yourself: “If I removed this prologue, would the story still work?” If the answer is yes, cut it.

A prologue should feel necessary—not like a nice-to-have extra or a way to show off your worldbuilding skills.

5. It’s a history lecture

This is one of the main reasons prologues have such a bad reputation. If your prologue reads like a textbook—explaining the political landscape, listing historical events, or detailing the rules of your magic system without any character action—it’s not going to work. Readers don’t want a lecture. They want a story. If you can’t make your prologue story-driven, skip it.

The Decision Test:

Still not sure if your story needs a prologue? Ask yourself these three questions:

• Is there information the reader absolutely must have before the story begins?
• Can you present that information in a compelling and brief manner?
• Is it information that cannot be provided in the opening chapter?

If you answer “no” to any of these, skip the prologue. Your story will be stronger for it.

The Four Main Types of Prologues

If you’ve decided your story needs a prologue, the next step is figuring out what kind of prologue works best for your narrative.

There are four main types of prologues, each serving a different function. Understanding these can help you structure yours more effectively.

1. The Future Protagonist

This type of prologue shows us the future self of the lead character—sometimes even their death—to set up the question: “How did we get here?”

It creates immediate intrigue because readers know where the story is headed, but they don’t know how the protagonist arrives at that point. This builds suspense and keeps readers turning pages to find out what leads to that pivotal moment.

When to use it:

• You want to create a sense of inevitability or tragedy
• Your story has a non-linear structure
• You’re writing a character-driven narrative where the journey matters more than the destination

Example: A prologue might show your protagonist on their deathbed, reflecting on the choices that led them there. Or it could open with them standing at a crossroads, about to make a life-altering decision, before jumping back to show how they ended up in that position.

This type often uses the same point of view as the rest of the novel and can be framed as a memoir, letter, or older character looking back.

2. The Past Protagonist

Sometimes a formative event in a character’s past—a loss, trauma, or turning point—is essential to understanding who they are in the present.

This type of prologue takes readers back in time to show that defining moment. It sets up the character’s personality, fears, and motivations right from the start, so when we meet them in Chapter One, we already understand what drives them.

When to use it:

• A past event is crucial to the character’s arc
• The trauma or backstory would feel awkward to reveal through flashbacks later
• You want readers emotionally invested in the character from page one

Example: Your protagonist is a detective who’s obsessed with solving cold cases. The prologue shows them as a child, witnessing their sister’s unsolved disappearance. Now, when Chapter One opens with them taking on a new case, readers already understand why this work consumes them.

3. The Different POV

Using a different perspective can make a prologue stand out and add layers of mystery or dramatic irony to your story. This type of prologue might be written from the point of view of:

• The villain (showing their motivations or plans)
• A minor character who witnesses a key event
• A fictional observer (like a psychiatrist analyzing the protagonist)
• A character who dies or disappears before Chapter One begins

When to use it:

• You want to create dramatic irony (readers know something the protagonist doesn’t)
• You’re introducing a villain or antagonist whose perspective won’t appear again
• You want to show an event from an outside lens before diving into your protagonist’s POV

Example: Your thriller is told from the protagonist’s first-person POV, but the prologue is written from the killer’s perspective as they stalk their first victim. Readers know the danger is real, even though the protagonist doesn’t—yet.

Or, like in Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov, the prologue is written from the perspective of a fictional psychiatrist, providing a framing device and a different lens on the main character than a first-person narrator could offer.

4. The Background Prologue

This is most common in science fiction and fantasy, where readers need to understand the rules of your world before the main story begins.

The goal here isn’t to dump information—it’s to create a small, self-contained story that shows how the world works. You’re not explaining the magic system in a lecture; you’re showing a character using it. You’re not listing the political factions; you’re showing a conflict between them.

When to use it:

• You’re writing in a genre with complex worldbuilding
• Readers need context about the setting, history, or rules to understand Chapter One
• The information would bog down your opening if included there

Example: In Eragon by Christopher Paolini, the prologue shows a Shade and Urgals ambushing elves to steal a sapphire stone. It’s brief, action-driven, and establishes a world of magic and high stakes. When the protagonist finds the stone in Chapter One, readers immediately know he’s in danger—without needing a lengthy explanation.

Or in The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett, the prologue shows a priest, knight, and monk being cursed. It sets the tone of the medieval world and offers backstory that will pay off later in the narrative.

Which Type is Right for Your Story?

The type of prologue you choose depends on what your story needs:

• Do you need to show how the protagonist got to a critical moment? Use Future Protagonist.
• Is there a past event that defines who they are? Use Past Protagonist.
• Do you want to create suspense or show events from another angle? Use Different POV.
• Do you need to establish your world’s rules efficiently? Use Background Prologue.

Pick the type that best serves your narrative—and remember, just because your genre often uses one type doesn’t mean you’re locked into it. The key is choosing the structure that makes your prologue feel essential, not tacked on.

How to Write a Prologue That Actually Works

Alright, you’ve decided your story needs a prologue. You know what type works best for your narrative. Now comes the hard part: actually writing it in a way that hooks readers instead of losing them.

Here’s how to write a prologue that grabs attention, serves your story, and doesn’t end up getting skipped.

How to Start a Prologue:

The beginning of your prologue is critical. It’s not just the start of a chapter—it’s the first impression of your entire book. You never get a second chance to hook a reader, so your opening needs to be sharp, intriguing, and immediate.

Here’s how to make it unforgettable:

• Use strong imagery to set the scene and create a mood. Paint a vivid picture in the reader’s mind from the first sentence. Make them see the world you’re building, feel the atmosphere, and sense the tone of your story.
• Start with a shocking or unexpected statement. Open with something that makes readers stop and think, “Wait, what?” A bold claim, a surprising revelation, or an unsettling observation can pull them in immediately.
• Open with a question or a cliffhanger. Pose a mystery or leave something unresolved that makes readers need to know what happens next.
• Begin in the middle of the action (in medias res). Drop readers into a tense moment—a chase, a confrontation, a life-or-death decision. Let them experience the stakes before you explain the context.
• Create a sense of urgency. Make it clear that something important is happening right now. Time pressure, high stakes, and immediate consequences keep readers engaged.

The key is this: your first sentence should act as a door to the world of your story. If it’s boring, vague, or overly explanatory, readers won’t walk through it.

1. Focus on Character Action

Even if you need to establish worldbuilding or backstory, your prologue should focus on characters doing things—not just thinking, explaining, or narrating.

Action creates forward momentum. It keeps readers engaged because something is happening, not just being described.

This doesn’t mean your prologue has to be an action scene with explosions and sword fights (though it can be). It just means your characters should be active participants in the story, not passive observers.

Bad example:

The kingdom of Valdoria had been at war for three centuries. The ruling family, House Draven, controlled the northern territories, while the southern rebels fought for independence. Magic was outlawed after the Great Purge of 1342, and those caught using it were executed.

This is a history lecture. It’s boring. It’s static. There’s no character, no action, no reason to care.

Better example:

Kael pressed his palm to the stone wall, feeling the hum of forbidden magic pulse beneath his fingertips. If the guards caught him here, they’d hang him by dawn. But the rebels needed a way into the keep, and this was the only entrance they hadn’t sealed.

Now we have a character making a choice, taking a risk, and moving the story forward. The worldbuilding is still there—we know magic is forbidden, there are rebels, there’s danger—but it’s woven into action instead of dumped on the page.

2. Avoid the Infodump

This is the number one mistake writers make with prologues: treating them like a checklist of information readers need to know.

Backstory is important. Worldbuilding matters. But a prologue shouldn’t be a list of facts about your characters, settings, or history. That’s boring, and it overloads readers with details they’ll struggle to remember.

Instead, follow the golden rule: Show, don’t tell.

Instead of explaining that your protagonist’s father was a tyrant, show a scene where the protagonist watches their father punish someone unjustly. Instead of telling us the magic system has three types of power, show a character using one and hint at the existence of the others.

Key principles to avoid infodumping:

• Tell the story through the actions, words, and thoughts of the characters
• Only provide the key details the reader needs right now to follow the story
• Trust the reader’s ability to wait for information and piece things together

Readers are smart. They don’t need everything explained upfront. In fact, leaving some questions unanswered makes them want to keep reading to find out more.

3. Build Tension and Establish Stakes

To keep readers invested, they need to care about what happens next. That means your prologue needs to establish stakes—something is at risk, something matters, something could go wrong.

Establish high stakes:

• Introduce a problem that has real consequences
• Show what happens if the protagonist (or another character) fails
• Create a ticking clock—time is running out

Build tension:

• Use foreshadowing to hint at danger or conflict to come
• Create friction between characters (opposing goals, secrets, distrust)
• Use dialogue to build a sense of unease or urgency

Keep foreshadowing subtle: Clues should be suggestive enough to create intrigue without spoiling the twists. You want readers asking questions, not having all the answers handed to them.

Example: In Game of Thrones, the prologue shows Night’s Watch rangers encountering the undead Others. It establishes that something terrifying exists beyond the Wall—but it doesn’t explain what they are, where they came from, or what they want. That mystery keeps readers hooked.

4. Keep it Short

A prologue is a taster for your novel, not a full meal. It should be brief, focused, and punchy—just enough to set up the story without dragging.

How long should a prologue be?

A few pages are usually enough. Some prologues are just a page or two. Rarely should a prologue exceed 2,000-3,000 words.

Is a prologue as long as a chapter?

No. A good prologue should be shorter than your standard chapters. If your chapters are typically 3,000-4,000 words, aim for your prologue to be 1,500-2,500 words max.

Why? Because a prologue that’s too long risks:

• Confusing readers with too many subplots or characters
• Feeling like the “real” story hasn’t started yet
• Losing the impact of a sharp, focused opening

Think of it like this: a prologue should pack a punch, not meander. Get in, set up what you need to set up, and get out.

5. Maintain Style and Tone

Even if your prologue uses a different point of view, takes place in a different time period, or follows different characters, its style and tone must fit with the main narrative.

You don’t want to confuse your readers or give them a false impression of what the rest of the book will be like.

If your novel is a lighthearted fantasy adventure, don’t open with a grim, violent prologue that feels like grimdark fiction. If your book is a literary thriller with sparse, elegant prose, don’t write a prologue that’s overly flowery or melodramatic.

The prologue is still part of your book. It should feel like it belongs to the same story, even if it’s structurally separate from Chapter One.

Putting It All Together:

When you sit down to write your prologue, keep these principles in mind:

• Start with a hook that pulls readers in immediately
• Focus on character action, not static explanation
• Avoid dumping backstory or worldbuilding—show it through the story
• Build tension and establish stakes so readers care what happens
• Keep it short and punchy
• Match the style and tone of your main narrative

A prologue that does all of this? That’s a prologue readers won’t skip. It’ll make them excited to dive into Chapter One.

Prologue Formatting Questions Answered

Before we dive into examples of prologues done right, let’s answer two common formatting questions that trip up a lot of writers.

Do Prologues Have Titles?

Most prologues are simply labeled “Prologue” and nothing else. It’s straightforward, it’s clear, and readers know exactly what they’re getting. However, some authors choose not to label it at all and there’s actually a strategic reason for this.

Here’s the thing: a lot of readers skip prologues. They see the word “Prologue” and assume it’s going to be a boring infodump or unnecessary backstory, so they jump straight to Chapter One. If you don’t label your prologue, readers might not realize it’s a prologue at all. They’ll just start reading, get hooked, and then be pleasantly surprised when they finish and see “Chapter One” appear next.

This approach works especially well if your prologue is written in the same style and POV as the rest of your book. If it blends seamlessly into the narrative, there’s no need to flag it as separate.

That said, you can give your prologue a creative title instead of just calling it “Prologue.” Some authors use titles like:

• “Before”
• “The Beginning”
• “Years Ago”
• A specific date or location (e.g., “London, 1888”)

This is less common, but it can work if the title adds clarity or atmosphere. Just make sure it doesn’t confuse readers about what they’re reading.

Bottom line: Most prologues are labeled “Prologue,” but skipping the label or using a creative title are both valid choices depending on your goals.

Is the Prologue Numbered in Books?

No, prologues are typically not numbered.

A prologue sits outside the main chapter sequence. It comes before “Chapter 1” and is treated as a separate, introductory section. This reinforces the idea that it’s not part of the main narrative flow—it’s setup, context, or backstory that exists outside the primary timeline.

So, your book structure would look like this:

• Prologue (unnumbered)
• Chapter 1
• Chapter 2
• Chapter 3
• And so on…

The prologue exists in its own space, which is why it doesn’t get a number.

That said, if you’ve chosen not to label your prologue (as discussed above), and you want it to feel like it’s fully integrated into the story, you could technically call it “Chapter 1” and then continue numbering from there. But this is rare, and it only works if your prologue truly functions as the opening chapter rather than a separate piece of setup.

For most books, though, the standard approach is: prologue stays unnumbered, and Chapter 1 is where the main story begins.

Prologues Done Right

The best way to understand what makes a prologue work is to look at successful examples. Here are five books that nailed their prologues—and what you can learn from each one.

1. Game of Thrones by George R.R. Martin

This prologue is a masterclass in establishing a world through character action and creating dramatic irony.

It follows three Night’s Watch rangers as they venture beyond the Wall and encounter the terrifying, undead Others. The scene is tense, atmospheric, and immediately establishes the stakes: there’s something dangerous out there, and winter is coming.

What makes it work:

• Character-driven action: We’re not getting a history lecture about the Night’s Watch or the White Walkers. We’re watching characters experience the threat firsthand.
• World establishment: Without infodumping, Martin shows us the rules of this world—the Wall, the Night’s Watch, the supernatural danger lurking in the north.
• Dramatic irony: Readers know the Others exist. But when Chapter One begins with the Stark family in Winterfell, they don’t know yet. This creates tension because we’re waiting for the main characters to realize the danger.

The prologue does exactly what it’s supposed to do: it hooks you, establishes the world, and sets up a looming threat that will drive the entire series.

2. Jurassic Park by Michael Crichton

Interestingly, Jurassic Park has two prologues—and they show the difference between a prologue that works and one that doesn’t.

The first prologue is heavy on exposition. It reads like a dry historical account of how dinosaurs were brought back to life, complete with scientific jargon and backstory. It’s informative, sure, but it’s also boring. Most readers skim it or skip it entirely.

The second prologue is far more compelling. It tells the story of a doctor treating a wounded construction worker who dies after mumbling the word “raptor.” It’s mysterious, unsettling, and raises immediate questions: What happened to this man? What is a raptor? Why is this being covered up?

What makes the second one work:

• Story over exposition: Instead of explaining the science, it shows the consequences of the science through a tense, character-driven scene.
• Mystery and stakes: It creates intrigue without giving away too much. Readers want to know what’s going on.
• Emotional impact: A man dies in pain and confusion. That’s a hook.

The lesson here? If your prologue feels like a textbook, rewrite it as a scene. Show the impact of the backstory, don’t just explain it.

3. Eragon by Christopher Paolini

This prologue is short, sharp, and efficient. It introduces a Shade (a dark sorcerer) and Urgals (brutish warriors) ambushing elves to steal a mysterious sapphire stone. It’s only a few pages long, but it accomplishes a lot:

• Establishes the world: We immediately know this is a fantasy world with magic, different races, and high stakes.
• Sets up the plot: When the protagonist finds the stone in Chapter One, readers already know it’s important—and dangerous.
• Creates urgency: The elves are desperate to protect the stone, which tells us it’s valuable and that powerful forces are after it.

What makes it work:

• Brevity: It doesn’t overstay its welcome. It’s just long enough to set up the conflict and get out.
• Clear stakes: We don’t need to know why the stone matters yet—we just need to know it’s worth killing for.
• Action-driven: Characters are fighting, fleeing, making choices. It’s not a static explanation of the world.

This is a great example of a background prologue done right: it establishes the world and stakes without bogging readers down in lore.

4. Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare

Shakespeare’s prologue is unique because it tells you the ending upfront—and somehow, that makes the story more compelling, not less.

The prologue is a 14-line sonnet that reveals:

• The setting (Verona)
• The conflict (two feuding families)
• The outcome (the lovers will die)

You’d think giving away the ending would kill the suspense. But instead, it deepens the tragedy. We know Romeo and Juliet are doomed, so every choice they make, every moment of hope or joy, is tinged with the inevitability of their fate.

What makes it work:

• Creates dramatic irony: We know more than the characters do, which makes us invest in their journey even more.
• Sets the tone: The formal, poetic structure signals that this is a tragedy, not a comedy.
• Promises a payoff: We know where the story is going, so now we’re curious about how it gets there.

This is a bold move—revealing the ending in the prologue—but it works because the journey, not the destination, is what matters in this story.

5. Murder in the Crooked House by Soji Shimada

This prologue does something essential for a locked-room mystery: it lays out the rules of the game. The prologue describes a bizarre, maze-like house in meticulous detail. It’s almost architectural in its precision, showing readers the layout, the quirks, and the impossibilities of the space.

What makes it work:

• Functional necessity: In a mystery where the “how” is as important as the “who,” readers need to understand the space to play along and solve the puzzle.
• Sets up the challenge: By showing us how strange and complex the house is, the prologue primes us for the impossible crime that’s about to happen.
• Creates intrigue: A house this weird has to be hiding something. We’re immediately curious about what will happen there.

This is a great example of when a prologue is genuinely necessary. Without it, readers wouldn’t have the information they need to engage with the mystery.

What These Examples Teach Us:

The best prologues:

• Are character-driven and action-focused (not static exposition)
• Establish stakes, tone, and world efficiently
• Create questions that make readers want to keep going
• Serve a clear, necessary function in the story

If your prologue does what these examples do—hook, establish, and intrigue—you’re on the right track.

Your Prologue Writing Toolkit

Now that you know how to write a prologue, let’s make it easier.

I’ve put together a free Prologue Writing Toolkit with everything you need to write, edit, and finalize your prologue.

What’s inside:

• Prologue decision framework (does your story actually need one?)
• Templates for all four prologue types
• Formatting guide (print vs. e-readers, labeling tips)
• Final checklist before you call it done
• Common mistakes and how to fix them

Put Your Prologue to Work

You’ve got the tools. You know what makes a prologue work, when to use one, and how to write it so readers actually want to keep reading. Now, it’s time to decide: Does your story need a prologue?

If the answer is yes, use the decision test. Make sure it’s essential, compelling, and brief. If the answer is no? That’s okay too. Sometimes the strongest opening is jumping straight into Chapter One. And remember—whether you write a prologue or not, the goal is the same: pull readers in and make them care about what happens next. 

Download the free toolkit, test your prologue against the checklist, and make it the best opening your story can have. Now go write!