Favorite lines you've written

I love the opportunity to share this since it probably won't make it into the final draft

"His face said 'what the f***' more clearly than words ever could."

Man, everyone has either badass one-liners or deep philosophical thought provokers, while mine is just:

"Boys, why is there a giant snake coming out of that man's ass?"

For context, the line is referring to a guy who has a giant snake for a tail, and the character being quoted walking in on his fight with two other characters.

Mattpwriter said:

"Boys, why is there a giant snake coming out of that man's ass?"

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lol, nice! (and comedy is not to be underrated )

@Mattpwriter - Most of the stuff I post in this thread is humorous. I rarely manage to write something poetic.

Favorite excerpt from my fantasy adventure novel The Accidental brotherhood

“Mister Bruller!” Called Goswiller, “I’ve brought some tea. Care for a bit?” Mister Bruller was ancient. Being an old salt, his gaunt face and wrinkled hands were witness to hard, cold, adventures in unthinkable weather. He wore patched britches that were fashioned at sea, with liberty-bell spans that danced with scrawny ankles. A tattered leather strap tied in a sailors knot, hoisted around his hungry waist. The sideways stripes of his muscle-shirt did not help camouflage a mousy sunken chest, yet accentuated his vacant muscular arms. His un-barbered hair that perfectly matched his beard and nicotine stained moustache, hadn’t seen a brush for as long as you can imagine, but was partially hidden beneath an off-white hat pointed at each end as you might see on a swabbie.
Smiling through a scorched corn-cob pipe...stained at the lip, Mister Bruller pushed open the squeaky, slamming door and stood next to the rickety porch railing. “Well...ha do, Goswiller. Certain to be a pleasure if’n ye come abard...oh and I’d be much obliged if ye bring that tea wit yer...HAHA” Despite his tortured life you could always count on a smile and good humour. “Careful ye don’t trus da railing too much. It’s parful tired.”

(Two characters were just closed into a room with no way out).

The light outside vanished. The only glow came from under the door crack, but Ralsue blocked it as she rammed into the door. She was breathing hard. "What are we going to do? He'll come back, right? Wintermin, right?"

I kept quiet, there was something in the background, something coming from behind me. "Ralsue hold your breath."

"What? Why?"

"Just do it."

She took in a big gulp of air as did I. But someone was still breathing. Someone behind me.

We called Howie, Howie The Pox, because he spends more money on doctors and penicillin than he does on the bars and whores that infect him. If he’d stop describing the sexual sewer in his underwear every time he contaminates his cock, we would’ve been kinder and named him Mattress Back Howie, or Bareback Howie, or Howie The Little Fat Fucking Steam Engine. But as he won’t keep his unhealthy discharges to himself, fuck him, he’s Howie The Pox.

Writing an earlier chapter. I thought this was a good line or two
--

“We are under attack.”

If he expected an outrage, he didn’t get one. The news mulled through us with a collective, airy “Alright?” as if America wasn’t always starting battles.

--

This is from a fabulist short, one of a novel-in-stories I'm playing with:

Joe hasn’t told them about his heart, and they know anyway. Of course they do. It’s his family, they feel it. He knew when his sister’s cracks began—not that she made a secret of it, showing them off like they were newly developing boobs or something—and they all felt it the moment their Uncle Willie’s started, appearing hot and hard and deep one Christmas morning when Joe was eleven. Despite a fancy cardiologist and smug surgeon, his uncle had been dead before the spring.

I usually post funny stuff in this thread, but I really like this. (Mackie is a cheerleader, btw.)

Mackie's stomach did a triple backflip and landed on a sprained ankle, but she forced out words. “I need to find them.”

Billy Estrella to his American Pitbull: “There’re two guys up there. Don’t eat em. Unless I tell you to. Dig?”

The crew had long ago learned to accept their captain's special brand of insanity.

"Is he always like that?"
"Only when the weather and the sea try to kill us."

I'll need to pick a new one, I killed the whole chapter my darling sentence was in.

Maybe this one can be a placeholder until I find a better one:


"The smell of salt water rolled over me along with mist that dripped down in swirls from the low-lying clouds."

Usually, whenever the dragon growled and blew a little smoke, the human would turn around and run, half the time leaving a puddle of his own design behind as he suddenly discovered that today was not, in fact, a good day to die and that honor and glory could wait another day.

It grew so quiet Vickie was sure she heard teacups clattering against saucers down the street. (From DRESS HER IN CHAMELEON)

Somewhere out there the serial killer lurked a blink ahead of the DEADco guard team.--A DEADLY SPILL OF SCARLET

ap123 said:

This is from a fabulist short, one of a novel-in-stories I'm playing with:

Joe hasn’t told them about his heart, and they know anyway. Of course they do. It’s his family, they feel it. He knew when his sister’s cracks began—not that she made a secret of it, showing them off like they were newly developing boobs or something—and they all felt it the moment their Uncle Willie’s started, appearing hot and hard and deep one Christmas morning when Joe was eleven. Despite a fancy cardiologist and smug surgeon, his uncle had been dead before the spring.

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You're posting, ap. Feels right.

Hoping Joe makes it, but it doesn't bode well for him. . .

From my WIP Soulless. . .

Sammy doesn’t need to know everything and anyway, it would just make him feel worse than he already does.

He shouldn’t feel bad. I wish he didn’t. He apologized to me the other day at the Goodwins’ house, after his dad showed up and before the cops came. The grown-ups were in the kitchen and me and Sammy were alone in the living room and that’s when he said he was sorry about everything; it was all his fault, he should have never talked me into spying on Jeffrey fucking Jones. I reminded him that he didn’t talk me into anything, I wanted to help and anyway, if it hadn’t been for him, Jeffrey Jones probably would’ve ended up killing a lot more little kids and nobody would’ve known. That’s when Sammy started crying, saying I was the bravest kid he ever knew and I told him heck no, he was the bravest and he said, Are you kidding me? You were gonna sew your fuckin’ balls shut, you little turd.

That made me laugh. Okay, not laugh, but I’m pretty sure I smiled after that one.

kkbe said:

From my WIP Soulless. . .

Sammy doesn’t need to know everything and anyway, it would just make him feel worse than he already does.

He shouldn’t feel bad. I wish he didn’t. He apologized to me the other day at the Goodwins’ house, after his dad showed up and before the cops came. The grown-ups were in the kitchen and me and Sammy were alone in the living room and that’s when he said he was sorry about everything; it was all his fault, he should have never talked me into spying on Jeffrey fucking Jones. I reminded him that he didn’t talk me into anything, I wanted to help and anyway, if it hadn’t been for him, Jeffrey Jones probably would’ve ended up killing a lot more little kids and nobody would’ve known. That’s when Sammy started crying, saying I was the bravest kid he ever knew and I told him heck no, he was the bravest and he said, Are you kidding me? You were gonna sew your fuckin’ balls shut, you little turd.

That made me laugh. Okay, not laugh, but I’m pretty sure I smiled after that one.

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Yes! The tone is perfect here.

"So you’re the legendary Dragon,” said the Lion.--A DEADLY SPILL OF SCARLET.

kkbe said:

From my WIP Soulless. . .

Sammy doesn’t need to know everything and anyway, it would just make him feel worse than he already does.

He shouldn’t feel bad. I wish he didn’t. He apologized to me the other day at the Goodwins’ house, after his dad showed up and before the cops came. The grown-ups were in the kitchen and me and Sammy were alone in the living room and that’s when he said he was sorry about everything; it was all his fault, he should have never talked me into spying on Jeffrey fucking Jones. I reminded him that he didn’t talk me into anything, I wanted to help and anyway, if it hadn’t been for him, Jeffrey Jones probably would’ve ended up killing a lot more little kids and nobody would’ve known. That’s when Sammy started crying, saying I was the bravest kid he ever knew and I told him heck no, he was the bravest and he said, Are you kidding me? You were gonna sew your fuckin’ balls shut, you little turd.

That made me laugh. Okay, not laugh, but I’m pretty sure I smiled after that one.

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Aah, I've missed your writing, kk! This is as beautiful as I remember it!

Thank you, ap123 and Putster.

The last time I saw Lo Jordan was the afternoon she got a phone call that sent her hurtling off my yacht into oblivion.