I set myself a challenge last night. Don't ask me why, but I did. How do you write first lines, asked Ginger, and gave some examples. I said I'd paste some on here and she could get out her red marker pen and tell me what she thought. Whimpers, wrings hands in sudden anxiety attack. Oh, go on then. Anyone. Tell me what you think.
Here goes:
(1) Kellie’d been way too impulsive last night, and she was about to pay for it. No, she decided. He would pay for it. With his balls, if not his life.
(2) Jane looked at the golden liquid, twelve years old with a faint tang of iodine curling into her nose, and decided it was far too good to throw in his face. Bastard. She raised the glass and sipped, savouring the taste on her tongue. “Did Harry not tell you?” she murmured, killing her smile. “He fired you yesterday.”
(3) Unfastening her bikini top, she flung it over her shoulder as she ran, laughing joyously, into the waves. Behind her she heard Ben’s voice, and it took a minute for the words to penetrate her brain. “Bella, no! Shark! SHARK!”
(4) Jess shifted from one foot to the other and looked down. The woman’s hand crept around his waist, climbed and undid one of the buttons. Her hand slid inside, turned, and her long red nails scraped slowly down the skin of his chest. One naked leg twined around his thigh, rubbed up and down. Her body heat swarmed through the thin cotton of his shirt as her hand descended, kept on going down.
(2) Jane looked at the golden liquid, twelve years old with a faint tang of iodine curling into her nose, and decided it was far too good to throw in his face. Bastard. She raised the glass and sipped, savouring the taste on her tongue. “Did Harry not tell you?” she murmured, killing her smile. “He fired you yesterday.”
(3) Unfastening her bikini top, she flung it over her shoulder as she ran, laughing joyously, into the waves. Behind her she heard Ben’s voice, and it took a minute for the words to penetrate her brain. “Bella, no! Shark! SHARK!”
(4) Jess shifted from one foot to the other and looked down. The woman’s hand crept around his waist, climbed and undid one of the buttons. Her hand slid inside, turned, and her long red nails scraped slowly down the skin of his chest. One naked leg twined around his thigh, rubbed up and down. Her body heat swarmed through the thin cotton of his shirt as her hand descended, kept on going down.
Hee hee. That was fun. Next post will be far more serious, and about dialogue.