I’m working on a new novel; unfortunately I can’t get past the opening line. Can someone help me out here?
Crime Novel.
Detective Andrews knew before even looked at the body lying beside the bike trail that he was dealing with a cycle path.
Potential Children’s Book
All the doctors at St. Helena’s Hospital agreed there was little hope for Fred as every organ in his body was shutting down after a lifetime of alcohol abuse and poor eating habits the inside of his intestinal tract looked like a dirty, dank, and decaying subway system in some crumbling city where blackened polyps hung in every corner lurking like tiny ticking terrorist time bombs waiting to explode into a burst of cancerous activity; however to Tommy the Tapeworm this was home.
Romance
Men were pigs and fortunately for Isabel she liked pork, but she soon realized that the way to this man’s heart was through his back with a box cutter.
Historical (Or Hysterical)
Alexander the Great rode into battle a piece of white cloth tied around his wrist soaked in the juice of a special wild berry so it changed to the color brown in the daylight growing progressively darker as the day wore on thereby allowing him to tell the time of day by its shade of brown; this crude but effective time piece became the world’s first wrist watch and later to be immortalized in the song Alexander’s rag time band.
lotek
08-09-04, 08:18 AM
Lucinda sputtered and balked like a 1972 Ford Maverick running lead free gas,
spewing shards of her broken life all over Dr. Filmores white shag rug.
He had seen this before, misguided individuals whose lives were like
broken pottery, leaking emotion, and searching desperately for a glue.
yes, Dr Filmore knew from the first moment Lucinda shambled into his
office what her diagnosis was, she was psychoceramic, a crack pot if there
ever was one.
Ok. more than one line but its all I could come up with at a moments notice!
Marty
iamlucky13
08-10-04, 08:14 PM
SciFi - The blackness was so deep you could feel it if only space conducted feeling...or was it sound that didn't travel in space? Whatever. The void was filled with it, and that's all that Brock Lasertag cared about as the last flux capacitor shut down on his damaged Clichestorm spacefighter. Without the 1.21 jigawatts needed to power his life support, he wouldn't be worried about the blackness much longer.
Investment - Let's face it. Your personal finances aren't in the state you wish they were. That's what you get for putting you money in a west coast bank when you live on the east.
Dave Moulton
08-22-04, 04:44 PM
OK here's a few more:
Corwin stepped outside and the humidity hit him like he’d stepped into a bowl of hot cream of mushroom soup, or maybe chicken noodle soup, but no chicken noodle soup was not sticky enough and plus he was not bumping into any noodles this was definitely like cream of mushroom soup.
As Hank Larson pushed aside the swing doors of the saloon the noise of conversation stopped and hostile eyes followed him as he walked to the bar his boot heels kicking up little clouds of sawdust dust with every step and at the far end of the bar next to a tarnished brass spittoon (or maybe it was copper.) a cat stopped cleaning itself for a moment and held up a bandaged foot as if to say, “You shot my paw.”
Janice tried to comfort her friend with well worn cliques like “Size doesn’t matter” but she was not about to reveal that she too had once been Rodger’s lover and that she knew all too well that he was hung like a squirrel with erectile dysfunction, however she also knew that his heart was in the right place which was in his upper chest cavity slightly to the left.
foehn
08-24-04, 10:02 AM
. . .
a cat stopped cleaning itself for a moment and held up a bandaged foot as if to say, “You shot my paw.”
. . .
A crow walked into a bar and hoarsely wispered, "Who shot my caw?"
A bleeding Sherriff walked into a bar and said, "Who shot the law?"
A gem cutter walked into a bar and said, "Who shot my flaw?"
A farmer walked into a bar and said, "Who shot my straw?"
A carpenter walked into a bar and said, "Who shot my saw?"
A hippo walked into a bar holding his mouth and said, "Who shot my maw?"
foehn
08-24-04, 10:05 AM
A crow walked into a bar and hoarsely wispered, "Who shot my caw?"
A bleeding Sherriff walked into a bar and said, "Who shot the law?"
A gem cutter walked into a bar and said, "Who shot my flaw?"
A farmer walked into a bar and said, "Who shot my straw?"
A carpenter walked into a bar and said, "Who shot my saw?"
A hippo walked into a bar holding his mouth and said, "Who shot my maw?"
And papoose walked into a bar and said, "Who shot my squaw?"
Dave Moulton
08-30-04, 03:54 PM
Not original, but worth repeating.
Detective Driscoll had fallen off the wagon like a frozen turkey from a Goodwill helicopter and, like a talking elephant reunited with his old circus buddies after 50 years, he reminisced about the most memorable collars of his career -- and he guffawed so hard that he fell off the barstool like another turkey from another helicopter as he recollected the time he arrested a mime for shoplifting and had to say "You have a right to remain silent”
The sun beat like a molten hammer upon the sand that Jasper trudged upon, scorching his bare skin, baking his eyeballs dry, boiling his brains in his skull, and bleaching his hair to that lovely yellowy shade that perfectly matched his taupe shirt, the one that he could wear with either his suede jacket or the denim one.
It had started off as a prank, but when Major Elyse Livesay discovered (during her solo space walk, no less!) the tarantula that the boys in the crew had slipped into her spacesuit, she knew that while in space no one could hear you scream, it was damn sure not for lack of trying.
Doc Parker looked down as Sheriff Eddie LaDuke lay desperately gasping his final breaths in the dusty sun-baked Arizona desert, knowing there was little he could do as the outlaw's bullet had shredded Eddie's internal organs like fresh coleslaw, leaving Doc to ponder his next move equipped only with his pistol, some chewing tobacco, and now, one extra horse.
wfin2004
08-30-04, 04:00 PM
Come on now, a papoose walking???
VintageSteve
08-31-04, 12:05 PM
Bill walked slowly through the dark night. He knew he was at the end of his line, but didn't know how close. There was no turning back on this one-way street.
It was like the premonition he had forgetten about. What was it?
Maybe the answer could only be found with the right question. It was impossible to tell where he was, it was dark. It was night. A cold wind blew past his still form. Yet he knew he must keep moving. Bill started walking again.
He would make his way to his friend Fred's home. Feeling freer, he finally felt a burden lifted from him. He forced a smile.
cyclingshane73
08-31-04, 12:33 PM
Yeah so it was like all dark and like stormy when there was this like loud knocking at the door at like 3:00 a.m and I'm like, "Oh - my - Gawd. Who in the world could that be I'm like trying to like sleep ya know?"
VintageSteve
08-31-04, 12:54 PM
Suddenly Bill abruptly came upon a fork in the road. He didn't know which way to go. Bill looked around and could see nothing. It was dark.
Finally Bill chose right, even though he had a feeling it was wrong. He couldn't explain it. Maybe this was the premonition he had had, but he forgot. Suddenly a full moon appeared over the horizon.
"It's a sign," he said.
And so it was. It read: 'Baxter 5mi.' He was on the right path. Now his steps seemed lighter, and he had a spring in his gait. A jackrabbit jumped across his path, startling him.
Bill continued on to Fred's house.
Dave Moulton
08-31-04, 01:30 PM
Suddenly Bill abruptly came upon a fork in the road. He didn't know which way to go.
Thanks for the inspiration Steve; here’s a rewrite:
Bill stood at the crossroads knowing there were only two ways he could go. He could take out his gun and shoot up a side street, or he could pull out his knife and cut through the alley. Either way he knew he was on a one way street without a paddle, up ship creek without a leg to stand on. Suddenly he had a premonition that felt like an anticipation of a future event and he went to the left knowing it was wrong, but although he knew two wrongs didn’t make a right he told himself three lefts would make a right.
VintageSteve
08-31-04, 02:00 PM
LOL Dave,
You've put my drivel to good use.
Good job-no wonder you're the writer (artist)...
Thanks for saving the English language!(sic).
Dave Moulton
08-31-04, 02:07 PM
LOL Dave,
You've put my drivel to good use.
Good job-no wonder you're the writer (artist)...
Thanks for saving the English language!(sic).
I don’t know about saving the English language; more like pay back to the Americans who have murdered it for so long. :roflmao: :roflmao: :roflmao: