Favorite lines you've written
- Thread starter Charlie Horse
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My first memory goes back to the house on Hamilton Mill Road and the wharf rats that held a rodent con on the kitchen floor every night.
"Even though she'd asked for it, Sam Pollak could not help feeling guilty the day he killed his wife."
That's all I knew about the story when I wrote that first line. It ended up becoming a book, published by Simon & Schuster, called ROWING IN EDEN.
That's all I knew about the story when I wrote that first line. It ended up becoming a book, published by Simon & Schuster, called ROWING IN EDEN.
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- Joined
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- growingupwolf.blogspot.com
“Just bear in mind at all times that you’re only an American. Therefore, aside from certain extremities—for example, sodomizing one of your male students while class is still in session—the more barbarically you behave, the more likely you’ll find yourself well received here.”
She grins. “No problem, Princey. You’re one of us. Took part in our show. Makes you an honorary jester.” A sniff echoes out of Merinh’s study. Lolo ignores it. “Anyway, I thought it would be a bit of a laugh to get you started with training. You up for it?”
“I – I have a lot of work to do…” I look at her lopsided grin and dancing eyes and wonder if I really do. I’ve kept myself inside ever since the day of my trial. Is it because it’s my duty, or am I hiding?
A breeze wafts in the door, ruffling Lolo’s copper-coloured hair, tickling my nose with the fresh scent of salt air. The invitation is irresistible.
“I’m going out, Tenirra. I’ll be back for supper.” I wrap a cloak over my shoulders – it’s one of Merinh’s, since mine is still lost at sea somewhere – and close the door, ignoring the loudest sniff ever.
“I – I have a lot of work to do…” I look at her lopsided grin and dancing eyes and wonder if I really do. I’ve kept myself inside ever since the day of my trial. Is it because it’s my duty, or am I hiding?
A breeze wafts in the door, ruffling Lolo’s copper-coloured hair, tickling my nose with the fresh scent of salt air. The invitation is irresistible.
“I’m going out, Tenirra. I’ll be back for supper.” I wrap a cloak over my shoulders – it’s one of Merinh’s, since mine is still lost at sea somewhere – and close the door, ignoring the loudest sniff ever.
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"No landsman could ever understand. Once the salt seeped into your bones and your blood moved with the rhythm of the seas, life on an unmoving clod of earth was no life at all."
Yes, very mythic and the choice words "landsman" combined with the focus on salt brings old cultures to mind.
Here are two from my hopefully-soon-to-be-finished WIP (out of dozens I wanted to put here):
"...and Maximus Kremmer, who spent most of his life hating, died hating."
"I came into the world like everyone else: small, blind, and crying in the dark."
In a play about a dying woman discussing how she will spend the rest of her time... "I'm on the wrong side of time."
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From my second novel:
A Hispanic man opened the front door. He had triple chins, white teeth and sported a fleshy smile as he backed up a step. He wore a sharkskin suit and Johnny wondered idly if he sported a fin on his back.
A Hispanic man opened the front door. He had triple chins, white teeth and sported a fleshy smile as he backed up a step. He wore a sharkskin suit and Johnny wondered idly if he sported a fin on his back.
Now that I know to look for them, the remembering-stones make up a forest of the departed around us. It’s an odd sensation. The fresh air, the sun on the waves and the constant cries of the birds around us speak of life, not death, and yet we’re surrounded by it.
I wonder if the souls of the dead linger here. On such a day, the thought isn’t frightening – just a wistful hope that they, too, can take some ethereal pleasure in it.
I wonder if the souls of the dead linger here. On such a day, the thought isn’t frightening – just a wistful hope that they, too, can take some ethereal pleasure in it.
Another:
He looked out the window at thin drizzle – the kind that was too light to turn on your car wipers but would soak you to the skin in a minute. Clouds hung over the rain-slicked concrete like lacy shrouds. The sun, as far as anyone knew, could have passed him by and gone on to less bleak surroundings, running silent through the still blackness of space. Somewhere out there Linda's body was getting wet, the rain soaking through her clothing and getting into her eyes. And she didn’t feel a thing.
He looked out the window at thin drizzle – the kind that was too light to turn on your car wipers but would soak you to the skin in a minute. Clouds hung over the rain-slicked concrete like lacy shrouds. The sun, as far as anyone knew, could have passed him by and gone on to less bleak surroundings, running silent through the still blackness of space. Somewhere out there Linda's body was getting wet, the rain soaking through her clothing and getting into her eyes. And she didn’t feel a thing.
One last one. Aelfinn is given a throwing knife.
***
It’s much lighter than my dagger. The balance is different. Like a falcon compared to a war stallion. Both have an air of sleek fierceness, but one is sturdy and earthbound. The other has flight in its bones.
***
It’s much lighter than my dagger. The balance is different. Like a falcon compared to a war stallion. Both have an air of sleek fierceness, but one is sturdy and earthbound. The other has flight in its bones.
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I popped in to see what I'd been missing and found little gems...
Next time, I won't wait so long.
Next time, I won't wait so long.
