Why the Once Upon a Time Hook Still Controls How We Think

Why the Once Upon a Time Hook Still Controls How We Think

Stories are weird. We spend our lives swimming in them, from the Netflix shows we binge at 2:00 AM to the way we explain a bad breakup to a bartender. But there is one specific opening that acts like a psychological skeleton key. It’s the once upon a time hook. Honestly, it sounds like something reserved for dusty library books or kids in footie pajamas, right? It isn't. Not even close. It’s a cognitive trigger that instantly signals to the human brain: "Stop worrying about your taxes; something important is about to happen."

We’ve been conditioned for centuries.

When those four words land, your heart rate actually shifts. Researchers in narrative psychology, like Melanie Green at the University at Buffalo, have looked into how "transportation" works. It's that feeling of losing yourself in a story. The once upon a time hook is the fastest way to get there because it bypasses the analytical part of your brain. It’s an ancient shortcut.

The Neuroscience of the Fairy Tale Start

Most people think this hook is just about nostalgia. That's part of it, sure, but the science goes deeper. When you hear a narrative starting with a classic opening, your brain begins releasing oxytocin. Paul Zak, a neuroeconomist, has spent years studying this. He found that character-driven stories with a clear beginning, middle, and end cause the brain to produce chemicals that make us more empathetic and, frankly, more gullible.

It’s a hack.

If I start a business presentation with "In the third quarter of 2024, our margins increased by 4%," you’re going to look at your phone. If I start with a variation of the once upon a time hook—maybe something like, "Three years ago, this company was one bad day away from total collapse"—your ears perk up. You want to know what happened next. You need to know.

Why it works in a digital world

We are currently living in an attention economy where everything is screaming for your eyeballs. TikToks are 15 seconds. Tweets (or X posts, whatever we're calling them today) are short. In this chaos, the once upon a time hook provides a sense of structure. It promises a resolution.

It tells the reader that there is a path.

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Think about the "Once Upon a Time in Hollywood" title from Quentin Tarantino. He wasn't just being cute. He was telling the audience to expect a fable, not a documentary. He used the hook to set expectations. When you use this specific framing, you aren't just starting a story; you’re setting the rules of the game. You're saying, "I am the narrator, and you are the listener." It establishes an immediate, albeit temporary, authority.

The Dark Side of Narrative Hooks

But let's be real. This isn't all sunshine and Grimm brothers.

The once upon a time hook is a tool, and like any tool, it can be used for some pretty shady stuff. Think about political rhetoric. "Once, our country was perfect, then they ruined it." That’s a narrative hook. It creates a "Golden Age" fallacy. It’s effective because it simplifies complex geopolitical issues into a story structure that a five-year-old can understand.

Social media influencers do this constantly. They use "storytime" videos that almost always follow the classic hook structure. "Once upon a time, I was broke and living in my car, but then I found this one crypto coin..."

It’s rarely true. Or at least, it’s rarely the whole truth.

The danger is that we are so wired for this specific hook that we stop checking facts. We get swept up in the "transportation" Melanie Green talks about. We stop asking for data because the story feels so "right."

Crafting the Modern Version of the Hook

You don’t actually have to say the words "once upon a time." That would be weird in a professional setting.

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Instead, you use the functional version of the once upon a time hook. This involves three specific elements:

  1. Distance: You place the story in a time or place that feels separate from the "right now."
  2. Stability: You describe a world that was functioning in a specific way.
  3. Disruption: You introduce the "inciting incident."

Basically, you’re saying: "Everything was like X, until Y happened, and now we have to deal with Z."

Take a look at Steve Jobs’ 2005 Stanford commencement speech. He didn't say "once upon a time," but he started with, "I dropped out of Reed College after the first 6 months, but then stayed around as a drop-in for another 18 months or so before I really quit." He’s setting a scene. He’s using the hook. He’s inviting you into a world that is no longer his reality, but is essential for you to understand his message.

Variations that actually get clicks

If you’re writing content today, you have to adapt. The literal phrase is a bit cliché for a blog post, but the spirit of the once upon a time hook is alive in these formats:

  • "I used to think [Idea A], but then [Event B] changed everything."
  • "In 2019, everyone was doing [Action X]. Today, it’s a death sentence for your business."
  • "There’s a story nobody tells about [Topic], and it starts in a basement in 1994."

See what’s happening there? You’re creating a "Once" (the past) and a "Time" (the context) and a "Hook" (the mystery).

How to Apply This to Your Own Writing

If you want people to actually read what you write, you have to stop being boring. Period.

Most people write like they're filling out a tax form. They're afraid of being "unprofessional." But professional doesn't have to mean robotic. If you’re writing an email to your boss, try starting with a narrative frame. Instead of saying "Attached is the report," try, "Last week, we noticed a weird dip in our engagement, so I went looking for the cause."

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That’s a hook.

You’ve created a mini-mystery. You’ve signaled that there’s a beginning, a middle (your investigation), and an end (the report).

Practical Steps for Implementation

  • Audit your intros. Look at the last three things you wrote. Did you start with a dry fact, or did you set a scene? If it’s dry, add a temporal marker—something that anchors the reader in time.
  • Identify the "Dragon." Every once upon a time hook implies a conflict. If your story doesn't have a problem to solve, the hook will fail. What is the monster in your narrative? Is it a declining market share? A personal struggle? A technical glitch?
  • Kill the fluff. Don't spend three paragraphs setting the scene. The best hooks are fast. "Once, I was a king. Now, I’m a beggar." Ten words. Infinite intrigue.
  • Vary your rhythm. If your hook is a long, flowing sentence, make the next one punchy. Short. Like this. It keeps the reader's brain from falling into a rhythmic slumber.

The once upon a time hook isn't just a relic of the past. It’s the most powerful psychological tool in your communication arsenal. Use it to cut through the noise. Use it to make people care. Just make sure the story you tell afterward is actually worth their time.

Final Takeaways for Better Storytelling

Don't overthink the "once." It's really just a placeholder for "this is where it started." Whether you're writing a screenplay, a marketing copy, or just a long-winded text to your mom, remember that people crave sequence. They want to know how we got from Point A to Point B.

If you can master the art of the opening, you've won half the battle. The rest is just filling in the blanks. Stop worrying about being "perfect" and start focusing on being engaging. The world has enough dry information. It needs more stories.

Go back to your current project. Find the "Once." Find the "Time." Then, set the hook deep enough that they can't look away.