Daily Short #4

What I'm Listening To: Alexander Rybak - Abandoned

What I'm Doing: Reading, attempting to write, and listening to WW3 going on upstairs. :/

in motion

I'm trapped here in a place I hate, with a woman I loathe. I love everyone but her, and I hate that I'm frozen in place, unable to go anywhere or do anything on my own. I have lofty dreams. I have plans. I want to be constantly in motion, never staying in one place longer than a year or two at most. There are so many things that I want to learn, see, do, experience, and I'm stagnating here.

But even though I want to travel, I want to have a home base somewhere. A pleasant place I can go to recharge, but somewhere I'm not tied down. Somewhere I can drop off all the things I've collected on my travels, so that I don't have to get rid of anything, and a place to go for holidays and family gatherings.

Until I figure out where my home base is, I'll just keep on going, constantly in motion until I complete my quest.

Daily Short #3

What I'm Listening To: Sonata Arctica - For The Sake Of Revenge

What I'm Doing: Getting ready to go to bed. I'm tired.

ornate glass bottle

The house sits overlooking the water, large enough for two without seeming excessive. The couch is the most hideous thing anyone’s ever seen, but as it’s also the most comfortable, no one complains much after they sit down. The large television is flanked on both sides by a movie collection of Blockbuster proportions. Built into the wall behind the couch is a bookshelf that inhabits nearly the entire space, and is filled to the brim with novels of every shape and size. The carpet is plush, and the curtains are dark.

Lining the window sill are ornate glass bottles of every shape, size, and colour. When the sun is coming up over the ocean, the rays of light send colours streaming into the room where they fall against the far wall like waves crashing onto the shore. Sometimes they sit on the hulking, ugly couch and watch the stars come out above the array of bottles, and whisper back and forth in all the languages they know.

daily short #2

What I'm Listening To: Ghostly Encounters on the TV.

What I'm Doing: Thinking, reading, watching TV, and putzing around on the internet. (Not all at the same time. Not even I'm that good.)

under the influence

It’s like being drugged. The world starts spinning, and the colours blur together, and everything is more intense. Being in love is like nothing else in the world. You’re up, you’re down, you’re happy, you’re sad, you’re pissed off, you’re jumping off the edge of the world into a vast expanse of nothing and it terrifies you, but at the same time you can’t get enough of it.

When you’re in love, you don’t really see things the same way as other people. It doesn’t matter if the other person is ugly, or short, or anything. People may see the person you love as ‘unworthy’ or ‘wrong’ but it doesn’t matter, because you know what it’s like to feel that love, that overwhelming feeling that just drowns out everything else. It can make a person reckless, or stupid; people have done crazy things for love. People put up with abuse – for love. People will kill – for love. It’s insane, this loss of control. But I’d rather be in love for the rest of my life than take drugs.

It’s basically the same thing, anyway.

Ponyo and Daily Shorts

What I'm Listening To: Tom and Jerry (still)

What I'm Doing: getting ready to go to bed/work on DSR more.

I saw Ponyo today. My first impression of it was "WHAT. THE. FSCK?!"

But then the story actually began to develop, and I got into it, and thought, "WHAT. THE. FSCK!?" still. XDD

Overall, it was MAAAD CUTE! I'd see it again, especially now that I know what it's about. I don't think I would have gone to see it on my own volition, but I'm glad I went.

While I was gathering links for the award thing, I saw something pretty cool on Ghiffi's blog. (I've fallen behind on keeping up with my blogger stuff, so I don't know why I never noticed it before; I always knew she posted art, but I just now realised that she posts a 'daily doodle.')

I've decided I'm going to gank it from her, and turn it into a daily short.

Basically, I'm going to take the thing from Twitter (whose name escapes me at the moment) and turn it into a 100-500 word short each day.

I'll start now.

(edit: the twitter page is Writing Prompt)

looking up

She turned her face up to the sky as the clouds ripped open with a rumble of thunder. Rain poured down around her, soaking her to the bone, but she refused to go inside. Blinking against the drops of water, she stared up into the endless expanse of grey, and imagined herself somewhere else. Anywhere else. The location didn’t matter, as long as she was away.

She pictured herself walking through the rain with someone special, someone who was like her – someone who didn’t mind the water falling from the sky. She didn’t know who it was, or if they even existed. But together, somewhere, they would walk through the damp streets holding hands, and they would cross a beautiful bridge spanning a small river.

At the apex of the bridge, they would pause, turn their faces skyward, and then lean forward and share a special kiss.

Inevitable.

What I'm Listening To: Alexander Rybak - Dolphin

What I'm Doing: Writing - fanfics, admittedly, but better than nothing.

Although this new-found habit of mine will undoubtedly stand me in good stead while writing and revising, at the moment it's new enough to be a nuisance.

"Why?"

I finished a particularly well-written fic, and suddenly wanted to write more of my own. I'd left off with this:

Without waiting for a response, he ducked out of the other's bedroom and made himself busy in the kitchen.

Looking at it, I was thinking, "he's making tea. What does one do when you make tea in an unfamiliar flat?"

Poke through all the cabinets, of course. I added:

Deliberately, he let the cupboards crash closed and the mugs clink onto the countertops,

and then stopped there and stared at it.

Why is he making a ton of noise? He's afraid that his partner is going to kill him and stash his body somewhere, so why is he making enough noise to cover up the sounds of someone sneaking up behind him?

It drew me up short for a moment, and I found myself unable to continue until I'd answered the question. He's afraid. This satisfied my inner critic, and I continued the paragraph as:

Deliberately, he let the cupboards crash closed and the mugs clink onto the countertops, releasing the nervous tension he'd been feeling since arriving on the other man's doorstep.

Will this make me a better writer? Indubitably. Will it irritate the hell out of me, stopping myself every few paragraphs to make sure I'm explaining it to my own satisfaction? It's inevitable.

Discussion Post 2

What I'm Listening To: Cold - Cure My Tragedy (A Letter to God)

What I'm Doing: Trying not to kick or otherwise do damage to the infernally whimpering dogs. I've got such a headache right now because it hasn't shut up for the last HOUR and a HALF. I'm ready to do bodily harm to it.

This is a relatively long post, and even then, I'm positive I missed a few comments. Don't worry, I READ them all - they get emailed to me - I just... fail a bit, when it comes to replying. XD

Muses

JessJordan I can almost understand the media thing. I was trying to think about it, and was telling myself that I didn't really use things I've seen... of course, I am a complete geek and don't watch things like American Idol or cartoons and the like; when my television gets turned on at all, I watch something on the Crime channel, or Investigation Discovery, or the History International Channel, or Science, or just History channels. I'm a huge fan of history; it's crossed my mind that while I'm working towards my MFA, (the school I'm thinking of requires a bachelors degree before they'll let you take the MFA course) I'll get teaching credentials as a History teacher, and teach high school history. I also plan on writing at least two different historical romance novels under a pseudonym, as I believe I've mentioned in this blog. (Not sure if it was this one, or my angstdump blog that I said that I could never teach Elementary or Middle school... I really dislike kids, and middle school drama would have me shooting kids with bb guns after the first week.)

No, but here I get off my point so entirely I forget what I was saying. Anyway, I read somewhere that it's... okay... in a way to use other people's ideas, so long as it's not plagiarising them - taking their exact idea and using it for your own. What they said was okay (and I've long since lost whatever it was I read that said this) was taking someone elses idea, and changing it a bit here, and a bit there, and making it your own, until it's unrecognisable as the beginning idea, and is now your own original. I find myself doing that with Eversong; It's damn near impossible to write a fantasy novel of any kind without touching on something that's already been done in one way or another. And anyone who hears 'elves' is going to think of Lord of the Rings, or those Keebler monstrosities. (Sprites, pixies, and faeries, as well as goblins, imps, and the like are tiny little short things. Elves, in my opinion, are relatively people-shaped, and just as tall.)

And as I was reading this, I realised that I don't base my characters off of people. Not yet, anyway. Vicky is the only one; she's based off of myself. A loner, reads a lot, has no friends, not 'skinny', at a point in her life where she's just drifting aimlessly. But that's where the similarities end, and her home life is radically different, and of course, she has fantastic adventures in a different world. (which is, admittedly, something that I've always longed to do, but I don't think I'm alone in it, which is part of what I think will make Eversong so ... appealing.) In my historical romances, those are most certainly based off of real people. I'm unabashedly changing my best friend's name, and sending her spinning through time where she finds her true love. But I think that's as far as it goes. As I write, I'll probably find so-and-so starting to act like my brother, or my stepdad, or so on and so forth, but for the moment, I don't think I've done that. I'm almost envious of people who do, I think, because they've got at least a template for their character.

Ahh, music. I can't think without music, much less function. I've always got either my ipod on or winamp/itunes open, and I'm constantly on the hunt for new music. And sometimes, certain songs are inspiring. There's a song by Stabbing Westward that helped with some of the scenes (not written yet, but they're in my head) for Mischief and Murder. "Sometimes It Hurts" - the lyrics have nothing to do with it at all, but the music itself, and the tone of the lyrics, it has something of an apocalyptic sound to it, and it's going to be my 'writing theme' for M&M.

And most certainly other people's writings. Sometimes when I'm trying to write, and I can't focus on it, I sit down with a book and within ten minutes I'm itching to get back to my own writing.

I think I posted a link to it, but I'm going to post the actual hacks themselves in another entry, with my thoughts and comments added (because you should know by now that I've got an opinion on everything, and can talk writing until I'm blue in the face/my fingers start aching.) I've never heard of morning pages, and it's funny, because I was just talking last night to my friend about this same thing: I'm not functional in the morning until I've had at least a cup of coffee, and an hour of doing nothing but things like checking my email and surfing over the pet sites I've joined. I'm capable of leaping out of bed and getting dressed and getting moving, but usually within a half hour of doing that, I'm zombified again, and am good for nothing without at least an hour of being awake and moving around.

As for your work, that sounds like it would be full of novels in and of itself. And some people just aren't made to be parents. I know myself for one of them; I have no patience for children (although I've been told many times that I'm 'good with them' - it's mostly because I think that if I'm nice to them, without being too nice, they'll respect what I say and leave me alone when I want it. XD) and I've got too much interest in my own life. I understand that kids are a lifetime responsibility, whether you're twenty years old, or eighty. Your life is never your own again after you have kids, and I don't want that. (not to mention I've got incurable wanderlust; I'd never be home, and that's just as bad as not being a good parent while you are there.)

I've never been able to make use of writing prompts. Oh, simple things like 'rubber chicken, carrots, and a giraffe" I can turn into a silly story, but things like "You're walking down a dark road late at night and you see..."
I can use them of course, because all I've got to do is imagine myself walking down a dark road, there's endless possibilities, but it doesn't lend itself to story creation; usually just a paragraph or two.

I make use of your number 8 almost all the time. As a kid, I called them 'dream starters' because I thought that if I went to bed thinking about flying, I'd dream about flying, and the stories built themselves in my head from there. I'm also a seer - I see things in leaves, and in patterns on the wall and such. When I was a teenager, my bed faced a window with an enormous bush outside, and when the wind would blow, the leaves and the light would arrange themselves in such a way as to look like an angry old man, shouting about something, so I used to lie in bed and think about what he was so mad about, and why he was shouting, and what he was saying.

In some of my writers hacks, the guy said that writer's block is a farce, and that he sometimes sits down and writes "I have nothing to say" so many times that he finally gets so pissed off about writing something stupid that he's able to write something decent, and other people have said they get writer's block looking at blank pages. I get artists block looking at blank pages; I've never been able to make much use of sketchbooks because of it, although I doodle endlessly on lined paper (to the utter horror of my artistic friends. XD)
Another thing the writers hack said was when he was talking about his wife, who is a painter, and always has two projects going on at one time, so that when she's stuck on one, she switches to the other until she gets stuck on it, and then goes back to the first. I started M&M when I couldn't bring myself to write anything else for Eversong, and now I've got a good portion of it mapped out, and a little bit of the beginning as well, and now, after a short break from Eversong, I feel the ideas building up for it again, and I'm getting the ball rolling on writing it again, and can't even think of writing for M&M. And I imagine I'll switch back and forth between them until they're both done.

-

Don't feel bad about being partially blind. I'm halfway there myself; I feel like an old woman some days, because my hearing's bad (especially right now, I got water in one of my ears a week ago, and now can't hear a thing out of it) and my eyes are getting worse and worse, and I've got back pains and can't hardly walk some days...

And I think I've said somewhere else, that I've got patience for things I like (for the most part.) I like to read other people's stories, and if something I said could help them become a better writer, then I've accomplished something. Granted, my patience started running out towards the end, because it was story after story that was just... terrible. I know the internet is famous for it's 'anonymity' but that didn't occur to me when I was telling people honestly what I thought of their excerpts, until afterwards, when one of the authors of something I'd commented on had asked me questions in return about something I'd said, but I'd also rather speak honestly and tell someone that something's not good enough, than sugar coat it, and get their hopes up. And as much as it'll pain me, I want honest feedback on my own stories (something my friends on LJ couldn't seem to manage. XD I asked them specifically "read over this and tell me why it's wrong/why you don't like it" and all I got was, "this is so great, I love it!")

I was trying to think if I've got anything that's a 'good example' of my writing, without simply copy-pasting bits of my novels (because I've heard that posting your book, or parts of your book online can interfere with the publishing process) but discovered that the only thing I've really ever written aside from starting these books is 'adult' rated, mostly slash fanfiction, for various anime games, and the Harry Potter novels. And I don't know what Eversong looks like right now (haven't reread any of it since I started writing) or I'd post an excerpt of it. Maybe I will anyway. Not my first 250 words, because I know for a fact that the beginning is weak and needs a lot of work, but something... *thinks about it*

All of my friends up until this point have been artists. Really good artists. And I'm ... not bad. I can make vaguely human-shaped drawings, if they're girls, in tight clothes. XD

Such as this, my oldest and favourite RP character, who will be making it into Eversong. Her name's Eshina Darksquall, nicknamed "Phantom"

And here is Phantom and her husband, Manessin Darksquall, aka "Spectre" as drawn by my friend.

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Writing is a Thought In Progress

The 'write what you know' thing stems mostly from the fact that the majority of my books will take place in or around Virginia Beach. I know large cities like New York and Chicago are popular settings (yet another reason for me not to use them) but I've never been there, and couldn't tell you a damn thing about either city. Virginia Beach I've lived in over half my life, and while there are still things that surprise me, I still know my way around, and can picture any of the streets I frequent with ease, as well as give you vague directions on how to get to certain places.

I do think that a murderous rampage can be accomplished while still creating the perfect murder (leave no one alive, touch nothing, that sort of thing) but I'll say it again just so people don't worry - I'm not the least likely to go on a murderous rampage.

Thank you on the title compliment. I hadn't thought about it until you said something, but you're absolutely right. Perfect could be about any number of things. The perfect girl, the perfect body, the perfect score, the perfect murder...

The thing that gets me about my various ideas isn't the number (though there are many, and obviously the horde is growing) it's the diversity. Most people stick to just one genre, and they're good at it, but even for myself (that writer's ego coming out and showing off again) I reread the excerpts I posted, and I was thinking, that if I were reading those books, not writing them myself, they'd all be good. They're all GOING to be good. And now I feel like I have a standard to live up to; I've got fantastic starts with all three of them, and they're as different as different could be.

I don't think people realise that women can be just as coldblooded as men. Women as a gender-role have always been matronly, caring-for-people, child-raising people, whereas it's men - hot-headed, strong, less self-control - who are brought to mind by the thought of a serial killer. And it's true, that more men kill than women, and in male/female partner killings, it's generally the woman is an accomplice while the man is the killer, but that doesn't mean that there aren't women who kill. One of my favourite shows on Oxygen is Snapped and it's exactly that, stories about women who snap, and kill people.
That's another thing. Women generally kill their husbands/children/parents - people close to them. Most of the stories in Snapped are women who've found out their husband was cheating on them/needed the money from the life insurance/had a new lover and wanted the husband out of the way... things like that. Which is why I'm so stoked, personally, about Perfect - it stars a topically stereotypical female lead, who is carrying out actions predominantly manifesting in men. Random victims, really violent killings, and of course, she's pretty much above reproach, being the only daughter of Such-and-Such-Big-Name-Company's CEO. She's like 'the quiet guy who always helps out at church functions and helps little old ladies across the street and takes in stray puppies, and then every third Monday goes out and rips the skin off of hookers' only in girl form.
Also, feel free to get bossy. When people are excited about what I'm doing, it makes ME excited about what I'm doing, and that gets things done faster. XD Also, I'm just as likely to get the same way, and it's about time I got a little of my own back.

I haven't actually decided whether or not she'll 'get away with it' or not. I realise most people probably read crime stories in order to get their happy ending without all the sap and kissing that romance novels present, but at the same time, I'm already breaking all the rules in the first place, why not leave it with 'and she drove away into the sunset, ready to kill again.' instead of 'behind bars for the rest of her life.'

I hadn't actually considered mental issues as a base for the killing. I haven't given it any thought, really, but as of five minutes ago, she was just some bored twenty-something who finds the idea of killing a thrill. And then it turns out that she's good at it (she'll be one that frequents the gym, was a cheerleader in high school; not muscular, per se, but strong, with good control of herself) to boot. Instead of overthinking it, I'm probably just going to write, and see what types of mental problems arise on their own, if there's something deeper at work or if she's just had one too many martinis.

As for the pseudonym thing, Amy K for Eversong and A.N.K for the YA won't be that much of a leap to make, whereas I think I'm going to ruthlessly separate the other genres from those two. As for the crime novel about a female killer written by a woman...
It was the same problem I had with Eversong, when I was first starting out. I actually interviewed my best friend's husband, and asked him if he'd read a fantasy story fronted by a female character. I don't know the audience at all with crime novels; I only know the two or three that I've got, myself, and I haven't the foggiest what people would look for in that genre. I know it'll be good, and it'll be interesting because of the over-riding themes, but I don't know if men would be more or less likely to pick it up if they thought a woman had written it. J.K. Rowling did that to her name (in rumours, at least) so that boys wouldn't feel self-conscious about reading a book written by a woman. Naturally, it shouldn't matter who wrote the book, as long as it's good, but it does. One of the YA girls from Twitter posted about something similar a few days ago; they said something to the effect of the list of the 50, or 100 most influential books of the 20th century was compiled, and only seven of the authors were women. Girls are easier about picking up a book by either gender, but some men might see it as an effront to their masculinity to be seen reading a book written by a woman. And they may not even know that they think that way; I'm just considering how to reach the widest possible audience.

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Just Keep Swimming (The sharks are vegans)

1- I may actually end up rewriting it, then. I've had Phantom (as a character) since my freshman year of high school; going on nine years now. And because she's so old, I've forgotten much of her original back story, but that is, as far as I can tell, a good representation; she was separated from her family at a relatively young age, and grew up 'on the road' as it were, with her mentor. The reason for the confusingly similar names is because they're twins. (Don't know if I made that clear in the actual story, because I can't bring myself to reread it. XD)
And the abrupt shift has more to do with the fact that I couldn't write, than your brain being on lock-down from work. I'm impossibly happy that you liked it overall, however, and it's made it onto the list of 'maybe someday I'll...'

2 - I'm still experimenting with actively writing to hook the readers in, and I must have rewritten the first sentence or two at least fifteen times before I finally settled on whatever you see up there now. She is killing at random, for two reasons: one, it's one less way to connect her to the murders, and two; as I said up there somewhere *waves vaguely in the direction of the top/middle of this post* women tend to kill their family members. There are, of course, exceptions, but I want this to stop being stereotypical after it passes her being the rich heiress type.
And I hadn't considered that, about the last paragraph. I'll go back and do something with that, as I was mostly writing in a hurry in order to get the initial opening out of my head and make it as eye-catching as possible.

3 - I'm not sure, exactly, how I ought to be 'showing' things and not telling them, which is why it's a little sketchy. Eversong was the first novel I started working on, and I've been on the fence about that beginning since I wrote it.
This is also a good a place as any to answer another question I remember you asking (somewhere) about her being in her early twenties, and never having fallen in love. She's very much independent, a sort of 'I'll do it myself' person rather than the 'Oh, help me, I dropped my kerchief!' damsel-in-distress type. And she's also more interested in books than she is in other people, and she's never really had any close close friendships in her life. She's had 'crushes' on people, but never serious, and that's the reason for her finding her true 'first love' while she's in Eversong.

4 - I tried rethinking M&M with human characters, and it simply wouldn't work. That's the reason I see them more like the characters from the Secret of Nimh or Once Upon a Forest. Very clearly animals, but still... upright-walking, clothes-wearing, and English-speaking. At some point, I'll get that across in the writing, but of course, that was only the first two hundred and fifty or so words. I picture Riley as something of a coward; not because he's REALLY a coward, but just because he's so overshadowed by so many other Huge Personalities in his home life that he never really has a chance to share himself.

Also, you've totally made my day with that comment. I'm pretty sure the publisher deals with whatever blurb goes on the back of the cover, but the point of the back cover is to create a story that lends itself well to such a thing, and still gets people interested in it. It made perfect sense, and like I said, it made my day. It's really nice to hear from friends that you've got something kinda good going on there, but it's spine-tingling, stupid-grin-inducing to hear the same thing from new friends that don't know me for the utter (but harmless) lunatic that I am.

Just Keep Swimming! (The sharks are vegans.)

What I'm Listening To: Emilie Autumn - Swallow

What I'm Doing: Writing!

Jess (first, may I call you that? XD Never even thought about it until now) posted excerpts from her novels and WIPs, and also mentioned that she'd never read anything I've written (except the 'first lines' I posted a few days ago) and it decided me to post excerpts of my own. (In one case, there's an entire first chapter; the first original story that I posted anywhere, based off of RP-born characters, dating from 2oo2. IT'S BAD. REALLY, REALLY BAD. I'm posting it here to show that YES, PRACTICE MAKES IT BETTER.)

Sorrow of Memory, from my high school days. (It was either late sophomore year or early junior year. Probably sophomore.)

---
Perfect excerpt:
The first time Allison Scotts turned on her television and saw herself on the news, she’d just come home after leaving the scene of a murder.
The silence of her spacious condo pressed in on her, broken only by the rain thumping against the windows, and she turned the t.v. on for noise. Gradually, the reporter’s voice cut through the wall of apathy in her mind, and as she realised they were talking about her – indirectly of course, because no one could possibly connect a well-to-do heiress to such horrific crimes – she laughed.
”The police are calling it the work of a deranged mind, and are investigating the motives behind such a brutal killing. The name of the victim has not yet been released, and we are all confident that the killer will be caught.”
Ally tugged the scrunchie out of her hair and peeled her wet clothes off as she made her way towards the luxurious bathroom at the back of the suite, the details of the crime she’d just committed pushing their way out of her mind in favour of recalling the details of the murder still being reported by the bleached-blonde twit on the news. She poured herself a drink, and set the tub to filling itself, adding some bubbles as an afterthought.
At twenty seven, Ally was the poster-child for the Rich Bitch stereotype. She’d never worked a day in her life, and had attended parties that made Paris Hilton’s exploits look tame by comparison.

---

Eversong excerpt:
She was dreaming. It was a familiar dream, one she’d had several times over the course of the last month, and it was always the same – the dark haired man, the tall forests, and a massive city rising above the trees. She was reaching towards him, and just before their hands met, he crumpled to the ground, and she woke up.
Blinking the sleep from her eyes, she flinched away from the sunlight streaming through the open blinds in her bedroom window, and for a moment couldn’t think of where she was. Seconds later, memory reasserted itself, and she recalled that she’d finished college a month ago – as hard to believe as that was – and had moved temporarily back in with her parents while she found a full-time job, and got back on her feet from spending the last four years in a dorm. Her alarm began blaring out it’s message, set to her favourite song in the world, Unchained Melody. Her room-mates had always made fun of her for waking up to such a soft, pleasant song, but she’d always told them that it beat waking up to something harsh and demanding.
“Vicky! You awake yet?” It was her father, the only man, as she’d said since she was five years old, that she’d ever need in her life. “Vick?”
“Coming daddy,” she hollered back down at him, and slid out of the comforting warmth of her bed, shaking off the remnants of the strange dream. In the notebook she kept beside her bed, she jotted down a single line: had that dream again...

---

Mischief and Murder excerpt:
My name is Riley, and I’m a rat. A really old rat, or so my grandkids say, but I’ve also got a really old memory. Not that it doesn’t work – oh no, my memories are as clear as the day they were made. None of us who lived through that hellish time were ever the same again, not really, but none of us ever forgot. It was the beginning of my sixteenth summer when the bottom fell out of my life, and my world was changed forever. This is where my story starts.

*

“Riley! Front and center!”
The young rat heard his father’s call, and dropped the flower he had been admiring, scurrying back towards the house. It was never a good idea to ignore Balthasar in one of his militaristic moods, something Riley had learned early and never forgotten. As one of the eldest members of Riley’s mischief, his family group, Balthasar had always had special treatment, had always demanded special treatment, especially from members of his immediate family. Riley’s mother Garnet had learned to deal with his various peculiarities quietly, but Riley himself had always resented Balthasar’s special place.
It’s not like he’s a military rat any more, he thought spitefully. Why should we have to suffer because he grew up in a cage? They were a familiar refrain, one he repeated to himself every time Balthasar had some new demand to make of them. Briefly, he wished he was made of sterner stuff, that he was brave like Corin, or strong like Bowen, and could safely break away from the mischief with a few friends, and start his own mischief somewhere else.

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The thing I'd like everyone to keep in mind about the last three (the first thing I linked to can be forgotten utterly, and I'd prefer if you did) is that they're just first drafts.

The final drafts, upon completion, will be better. Not perfect, because I'm of the opinion that once you create something 'perfect' you're finished as an artist or author. But better. Definitely.

And there you have it, me at my worst.

First Sentences

What I'm Listening To: Cinema Bizarre - Forever or Never

What I'm Doing: Reading NightMare by Piers Anthony

In my last post, Discussion, I mentioned I'd been thinking of posting the first line of my newest idea-in-progress, an as-yet untitled 'vampire novel'. To my dismay, I can't recall the exact wording of it, so I'm going to jot down what I recall of it here, and ask a few questions, as well as the other first lines.

An explanation: I'm going to post the first sentences of my three novels-in-progress, as well as the first sentences from some of the books I've got laying around, and give you my opinion on what makes them worthy. I suppose I could have just said that in the first place, but I was a bit distracted by my winamp behaving oddly.
*
She was dreaming. It was a familiar dream, one she’d had several times over the course of the last month, and it was always the same – the dark haired man, the tall forests, and a massive city rising above the trees.
-Legends of Eversong, Eversong (book one)

At first I was thinking I was going to hate this, because I haven't reread any of Eversong, and my overall impression of what I've written so far is that it's going to need heavy revisions when I'm done, but I surprised myself; that's not too bad for a first line, in my own opinion.

*

My name is Riley, and I’m a rat. A really old rat, or so my grandkids say, but I’ve also got a really old memory. Not that it doesn’t work – oh no, my memories are as clear as the day they were made. None of us who lived through that hellish time were ever the same again, not really, but none of us ever forgot. It was the beginning of my sixteenth summer when the bottom fell out of my life, and my world was changed forever. This is where my story starts.
-Mischief and Murder

Not the first sentence, but the introduction. The whole thing is NOT in first person; just a brief blurb from older-Riley, narrating bits and pieces of the story, where-as younger-Riley is the one the story actually follows.

*

I've been a vampire-hunter my whole life. The whole of my mortal life, anyway.
-Unnamed "Vampire Novel"

Ehhh. A couple days ago I had a really brilliant first line from the MC of this story, but it's gone out of my head now, which makes me very sad. This will likely NOT be the first line when I begin writing it, and I include this here just for posterity.

*

The stork glided to a landing before Stunk's residence and squawked for attention.
-NightMare, Piers Anthony

I think it's a good line; it naturally leads into the next paragraph, explaining who Stunk is, and what the stork is doing there. It doesn't make much sense taken out of context, but for what it is, it's good.

*

It was a dumb thing to do, but it wasn't that dumb.
-Sunshine, Robin McKinley

The first line of my much-lauded favourite novel, Sunshine. This is a brilliantly executed first line. It sets up the tone, the voice of the character, and sets you down right in the middle of everything that's going on. Of course, McKinley reverses that just two sentences later, by launching into a narrative of Sunshine's home and family life, but it does what it needs to do, and gets you started.

*

Winters on Ballybran were generally mild, so the fury of the first spring storms as they howled across the land was ever unexpected.
-Killshandra, Anne McCaffrey (Crystal Singer Trilogy, book 2)

An excellent introduction. It gives a little bit of backstory on Ballybran (mild winters and raging storms in spring) and kickstarts the story, which follows that line by setting up the character coming in to the guild complex on the edge of a storm.

*

"One drink. You'd think I just asked you to check into the Marriott."
-Timeless Passion, Constance O'Day-Flannery

Starting a novel off with dialogue can be a bit sketchy at times, but it works here by giving the reader a conflict right off the bat. The main character is single, and is being hit on by her married coworkers. And yes, this is a historical romance/time-travel romance. Hush.

*

The tropical rain fell in drenching sheets, hammering the corrugated roof of the clinic building, roaring down the metal gutters, splashing on the ground in a torrent.
-Jurassic Park, Michael Crichton

One of the most famous novels by the late Michael Crichton, Jurassic Park was slated to become a movie before he'd even finished writing it. Sadly, most people have never read the book, and don't even know it WAS a book. This is an absolutely fantastic first line. It sets up everything: place, actions, environs. Place, somewhere tropical. Actions, it's raining like mad. Environs, it's a clinic in an old building.

*

As the bus entered the prefectural capital of Takamatsu, garden suburbs transformed into city streets of multicolored neon, headlights of oncoming cars, and checkered lights of office buildings.
-Battle Royale, Koushun Takami

Another one that sets up the beginning quite nicely. You know where your main character is - on a bus - and where he's going - the city of Takamatsu. Granted, this may not make much sense to people who aren't familiar with the geography of Japan, but it's okay, because it's a good entrance anyway; you don't need to know what Takamatsu looks like; they've given it to you. Neon lights and lots of traffic, and office buildings, with garden-filled suburbs.
This is an interesting book, because it's been translated into English from the original Japanese, but it didn't, as far as I know, lose anything in that translation. This is either because it was a phenomenal book in the original language, or the translator did a fantastic job, or both, but I don't read fluently in Japanese yet, and couldn't tell you what the case was.

*

The bus had no business stopping where it did. We should have gone straight on across the Coldingham Moor, with Dunbar to the back of us and the English border drawing ever nearer, but instead we stopped, and the shaggy-faced cattle that lifted their heads on the far side of the fence appeared to share my surprise when the driver cut the engine to an idle.
-The Shadowy Horses, Susanna Kearsley

So I squeezed two sentences in, I love this book too much not to. It has all the makings of a beloved book, but I'm no longer in the mood for frivolities, due to a slight misunderstanding with a friend. I'll do one more, since I have the book in front of me, and then I'll let you be.

This is a book I haven't read yet (rescued it out of the GARBAGE. TAT Who THROWS AWAY BOOKS!? It's MADNESS!) so I don't know what it's going to be like; a completely impartial opinion.

*

Rain was in the air. Kolb had never given much thought to the weather in Los Angeles. Most days were seventy-five degrees and sunny. But in January came drenching rain that flooded the streets, causing traffic snarls and fender benders and, sometimes, fatal accidents. The rains could kill.
-Dangerous Games, Michael Prescott

It was technically three paragraphs, ending with air, accidents, and kill, but I lumped it all together to make it easier to type and see. But my first reaction upon reading 'the rains could kill' was, 'ooh! what's going to happen?' And this book moved up on my list of 'what to read next.'

This has been, if boring for you, an exercise in reader-hooks for me, figuring out what should be in a first sentence/paragraph, and how it should be phrased. A lot of comments people made in the Secret Agent contest was, "Don't report the weather." Mostly on excerpts that began, "The morning began dark, and wet..." or similar such phrases. But here, you can see where the authors have 'reported the weather' in such a way as to make it part of the background, and not the most important part of the opening of the story.

Thank you for reading, I'm off to alternately kick myself for having a flare of unnecessary temper, and hope that I can get a chance to actually talk TO my friend, and not just exchange infrequent messages while she's uber busy with something else.