Favorite lines you've written

GraemeTollins · Dec 7, 2015

kkbe said:
From the novel I'm working right now *language, mature* eek:

“Know what a rent boy is, Mike?”
“I don’t give a shit what a rent boy is, Kione.”
“He liked short shorts. You like short shorts? I can totally see you in short shorts.”
“Fuck you, asshole.”
The cell went silent. Kione watched me, no expression.
I looked away.
“Tell me what happened in Galveston,” he said.
Jesus Christ. “I already told you what happened in Galveston. I was there a week, we screwed around, I went home.”
“I think something happened between you and John Sinclair.”
“Think what you want.”
Kione pushed himself up and joined me at the gate. We both turned around and held onto the bars, staring into the empty hallway.
Finally, I said, “Just let it go.”
“Let what go?”
“It. Everything. This conversation.”

Love this. Nothing like one person not wanting to even bother talking to make a great conversation.

Got a dialogue one for you. A phone call between a cocky son telling his mother about getting a place to stay. Probably a little bit non-pc. (Mum begins)

“And you can stay with him?”
“He offered, yeah. His girlfriend is away studying in America for a semester. Probably a masters in the relevance of lesbian tractor manufacture in the twenty-first century.”
“And tractors can be lesbians how, exactly?”
“I'm sure there's a course in it.”
“Don't be an idiot, Jason. It doesn't suit you. So what did Hugh say?”
“Said he'd be glad of the company. Money no problem. Just like paradise.”
“But?”
“Come on, mum. He's a nice bloke, but if boring is an art form, he's right up there with the Mona Lisa. You remember what he's like. I have to make jokes just to entertain myself.”
“Like you don't do that anyway?”
“What can I say? I've got a short attention span.”

kkbe · Dec 7, 2015

Silva said:
Yep, rich+body piercings+alcohol+dreadlocks+a-religious totally=morally ambiguous. Meanwhile, the actually morally ambiguous character, Kris's mom, gets no page time whatsoever.

Morally ambiguous = :snoopy:

!

Good stuff here, you guys. As usual.

BethS · Dec 7, 2015

kkbe said:
From the novel I'm working right now *language, mature* eek:

You + dialogue = something pretty amazing.

BethS · Dec 7, 2015

Justin K said:
From my wip A Portrait for Shy.

Damned souls only know this denial, that when a cat dies, their body stays warm and their limbs still bend, and they can be held as if living. But only for an hour. And when that hour is gone, we so choose in desperation not to be with our cat, less we have a stone heart colder than rigor mortis.

That's good. Really good.

Sniff.

Silva · Dec 7, 2015

Katharine Tree said:
(appropriates word into own vocabulary)

I always enjoy passing that word along. :roll:

doubledoc · Dec 7, 2015

"You know how mama adds two and two and comes up with seven every time."

kkbe · Dec 8, 2015

GraemeTollins said:
Love this. Nothing like one person not wanting to even bother talking to make a great conversation.

Got a dialogue one for you. A phone call between a cocky son telling his mother about getting a place to stay. Probably a little bit non-pc.

Cocky son + non-pc = :snoopy:

kkbe · Dec 8, 2015

BethS said:
You + dialogue = something pretty amazing.

Thank you, BethS. Time for a slice of humble pie. :Hug2:

Ravioli · Dec 10, 2015

The police car swallowed Nadir and started moving. At the end of the barely registered ride, he stumbled out and let himself be herded back into his cage. Jamal didn't die so you could trudge back in here, a faint voice inside of him screamed. But Nadir's urge to grab Orli and barge through the barriers, was killed by flesh which had resigned itself to the reliability of captivity. Go vegan, his inner voice jeered. Or maybe cattle deserves it for not fighting when they know they could. That cow deserves it, you deserve it, everyone else deserved it. Eat that cow. Eat the fuck out of it for letting itself be murdered so easily.

There was a blunt reference to another "such instance" in history but I cut that because it might have been too far. Should I do line breaks or do Nadir and his innver voice count as the same character?

kkbe · Dec 10, 2015

Personally, I feel it's the author's call. That would be you.

My own preference relative to what you're described would to follow with your mc *doing* something. Some action there, after that quite powerful introspection. Then again, this ain't a critique thread, so please ignore what I just highlighted in blue.

Chumplet · Dec 10, 2015

The moment my main character discovers a body:

"Oh, God. Oh, God..." I stood, rooted to the frozen dirt floor, my flashlight fixed on Alphie's face. For an instant, I thought he moved. The flashlight beam failed to penetrate the deep sockets of his eyes, but the shadows vibrated as if he were shaking.

"He's alive," I breathed, but Josh covered my trembling hand with a big mitt. The shadows stilled.

Ravioli · Dec 11, 2015

kkbe said:
Personally, I feel it's the author's call. That would be you. My own preference relative to what you're described would to follow with your mc *doing* something. Some action there, after that quite powerful introspection. Then again, this ain't a critique thread, so please ignore what I just highlighted in blue.

I thought about it, but I couldn't come up with anything.

Chumplet said:
The moment my main character discovers a body:

"Oh, God. Oh, God..." I stood, rooted to the frozen dirt floor, my flashlight fixed on Alphie's face. For an instant, I thought he moved. The flashlight beam failed to penetrate the deep sockets of his eyes, but the shadows vibrated as if he were shaking.

"He's alive," I breathed, but Josh covered my trembling hand with a big mitt. The shadows stilled.

You captured that brief denial of death perfectly. We always think we see them moving until we don't.

Katharine Tree · Dec 11, 2015

doubledoc said:
"You know how mama adds two and two and comes up with seven every time."

I really like this. Sounds very much like early Toni Morrison--I can hear Claudia MacTeer saying it.

LBecktell · Dec 11, 2015

An interaction between two MC's...pretty abusive relationship, but she's just starting to fight back:

She watched him out of the corner of her eye. He took his time coming around the chair, moving slowly so as not to startle her. Just like always, he was wearing a fitted button-up, tan skin peeking out from the collar. His trim figure seemed nonthreatening—a well-dressed man with benevolent intentions. Helen knew better. The line of his shoulders, the way his hair fell in a neat part, the smile he gave now as he sat by her: all a calculated menace.

“I don’t cry,” she said stiffly, opening the book again and tilting her face downwards, away from him. Some animals showed their bellies as a sign of submission, but Helen made sure to keep her chin drawn in to protect her jugular.

Chris chuckled. “I know.”

AlanaHarbison · Dec 12, 2015

Many tasty treats here, as usual. Thanks guys. Love it.
Here's a little treat of my own (an MC contemplating grief).

They get it wrong in the movies. Every time.

There’s always some pivotal moment, usually accompanied by a memory montage, when your protagonist smiles and accepts their loss. After this their life goes back to normal, with the exception of these pleasant memories they are now able to carry easily into their new found happiness.

The problem with this is, grief doesn’t work that way.

When the initial searing pain subsides, once the fierceness of anger fades, when the disbelief and the sudden surrealism of every day begins to wane and acceptance finally washes over you, it’s not a single surge. There is no flash flood of perspective and understanding, and then it’s over. It’s not like that in real life. It’s a gentle lapping, a back-and-forth.

Backward to pain, forward to acceptance and even happiness, and back again. This is the one constant in grief –an eddying between pain and pleasant memories.

Your memories will become easier to visit, but they will always be shackled to sorrow. And they will be heavy.

kkbe · Dec 13, 2015

I was just reading through the last couple of pgs. and a few quotes stood out...

NoirSuede said:
Above the earth below, there were two. One held man, and the other held the earth itself.

God i'm so sorrry if this is too pretentious

Not at all pretentious. Love that.

OceanMadness said:
He was going to cover her up with himself.
...
“You lie. Lie to me again, honey. See what happens.”

The first is poetry. The second, malevolence.

GraemeTollins said:
“Come on, mum. He's a nice bloke, but if boring is an art form, he's right up there with the Mona Lisa. You remember what he's like. I have to make jokes just to entertain myself.”
“Like you don't do that anyway?”
“What can I say? I've got a short attention span."

Ha! Snappy dialogue is an art form.

LBecktell said:
“I don’t cry,” she said stiffly, opening the book again and tilting her face downwards, away from him. Some animals showed their bellies as a sign of submission, but Helen made sure to keep her chin drawn in to protect her jugular.

Oh man, I can see her, tucking her chin down in the presence of that evil man. I hope he gets his.

AlanaHarbison said:
It’s a gentle lapping, a back-and-forth.

Backward to pain, forward to acceptance and even happiness, and back again. This is the one constant in grief –an eddying between pain and pleasant memories.

Your memories will become easier to visit, but they will always be shackled to sorrow. And they will be heavy.

Yep.

Good, good stuff, you guys.

Deepthought · Dec 13, 2015

Poem I wrote a while back. Rhyming might not be the best thing to use in something like this though, I've been told. I don't think I posted it here, so here it is:

The thought, inconceivable,
The spark death takes, irretrievable.
With you, I was obliterated
Sense of self, annihilated.
Fated to be mated,
A moment apart was a moment belated,
A lifetime wasted.
Only you, naught else rare.
Life, death, cannot share.
Unfair, knows no care,
Ensnares to its lair,
Leaves nightmare.
Silence there,
Deafening despair.

Lady Esther · Dec 13, 2015

I walked down the sidewalk and there he was, walking right along beside me.

“At least let me get your name,” he said. “Let me walk you to wherever you’re going.”

One more block to go. Maybe he’d turn a corner soon.

“Okay, fine,” he said. “Keep walking. It only makes me like you more. I’ll be Michael Jackson and you’ll be the lady in The Way You Make Me Feel video.”

He beat-boxed the bass of The Way You Make Me Feel, making me feel like a model on the runway. I grinned to keep from laughing. I didn’t want him thinking he won me over. Honestly, the boy was ridiculous.

Anna Spargo-Ryan · Dec 13, 2015

I had to take this out in my copyedit, and it pained me so maybe it can live on in this thread.

----

Maybe we heard it, in hindsight. Maybe it had that faraway, pedestrian sound that absorbs into the others. Maybe because we were from the city, we’d heard it every day. Maybe we just weren’t listening.

And so we smelled it first—the coolant smell, the burning oil smell, the thick iron smell—all of us running in spite of our various ailments, sprinting with all of our might to the shitty old car and the street tree that had bent in the middle like a crooked old badger, ran for the hissing engine and the twisted metal, ran for our friend who might not be flat against the seat, mouth open, eyes closed, forehead grazed and bloodied where it had maybe hit a steering wheel instead of an air bag, her shitty old car, and Greg shouted, ‘Is it going to catch fire?’ and the oil sat in our mouths, the metallic taste of adrenalin, and dad pulled her from the car and lay her head on the nature strip, and Dave leaned close to her face and said, ‘She’s breathing,’ and everything moved slowly and quickly, not so slowly as to be unhelpful, but not so quickly that we couldn’t see the people in their windows, looking up from their nightly news to watch it happen live.

‘Someone call an ambulance!’

We all shouted at once, all shouted into the street to save her life, like we were in Horton Hears a Fucking Who.

Lady Esther · Dec 13, 2015

Loved it, Anna Spargo-Ryan. But, man, that is one long sentence.

BethS · Dec 14, 2015

Anna Spargo-Ryan said:
I had to take this out in my copyedit, and it pained me so maybe it can live on in this thread.

----

Maybe we heard it, in hindsight. Maybe it had that faraway, pedestrian sound that absorbs into the others. Maybe because we were from the city, we’d heard it every day. Maybe we just weren’t listening.

And so we smelled it first—the coolant smell, the burning oil smell, the thick iron smell—all of us running in spite of our various ailments, sprinting with all of our might to the shitty old car and the street tree that had bent in the middle like a crooked old badger, ran for the hissing engine and the twisted metal, ran for our friend who might not be flat against the seat, mouth open, eyes closed, forehead grazed and bloodied where it had maybe hit a steering wheel instead of an air bag, her shitty old car, and Greg shouted, ‘Is it going to catch fire?’ and the oil sat in our mouths, the metallic taste of adrenalin, and dad pulled her from the car and lay her head on the nature strip, and Dave leaned close to her face and said, ‘She’s breathing,’ and everything moved slowly and quickly, not so slowly as to be unhelpful, but not so quickly that we couldn’t see the people in their windows, looking up from their nightly news to watch it happen live.

‘Someone call an ambulance!’

We all shouted at once, all shouted into the street to save her life, like we were in Horton Hears a Fucking Who.

Fantastic. And that's a very good use of a long sentence--to give that intense, one-thing-happening-after-another-really-fast sensation. So sorry you had to cut this.

Corsairs · Dec 14, 2015

I have to agree with Beth. That's a very effective use of a long sentence, Anna. Impressive given how often that style is abused to poor effect. Really well done!

Anna Spargo-Ryan · Dec 14, 2015

Thank you

I do love a long sentence but that one was pushing it, even for me. I'm so glad you liked it.

kkbe · Dec 14, 2015

Deepthought said:
The spark death takes, irretrievable.
With you, I was obliterated

Oh man. A punch in the gut, Deepthought.

Lady Esther said:
I walked down the sidewalk and there he was, walking right along beside me.

“At least let me get your name,” he said. “Let me walk you to wherever you’re going.”

One more block to go. Maybe he’d turn a corner soon.

“Okay, fine,” he said. “Keep walking. It only makes me like you more. I’ll be Michael Jackson and you’ll be the lady in The Way You Make Me Feel video.”

He beat-boxed the bass of The Way You Make Me Feel, making me feel like a model on the runway. I grinned to keep from laughing. I didn’t want him thinking he won me over. Honestly, the boy was ridiculous.

I truly love this, LadyEster. I can picture it so perfectly. What a great scene.

Anna Spargo-Ryan said:
I had to take this out in my copyedit, and it pained me so maybe it can live on in this thread.

Anna S., you are so, so good at this. I am in awe of you, for real.

Lady Esther · Dec 14, 2015

Aw, thanks, KKBE.

Favorite lines you've written

Huh.

saucy

Huh.

Huh.

Crazy Cat Lady

Huh.

This hat is getting too hot

Crazy Cat Lady

Þæt wæs god cyning

Huh.

Think hard, often

I can say the alphabet backwards!

Just pokin' about

I can say the alphabet backwards!

Saying it twice for truth

Just pokin' about

Huh.

I can say the alphabet backwards!