I know there's already a larger thread for this on the main forums, but I'm interested in seeing what we Bucks Countians have come up with. So, what's your favorite line so far?
Mine would have to be, "She refuses to look at the wall, refuses to give the sparse wealthy population of Catchknot that kind of satisfaction, but can't stand the decaying, poisonous poverty painted over every house she passes in her neighborhood, the Adlam's neighborhood, Alcott's neighborhood, the lean-tos thrown together in a heap on the outskirts of the factories."
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30,511 / 50,000
Nov 2, 2009 - 19 01
Most of my lines are short and require the paragraph to gain context but this line did make me smile.
"She was four hundred and sixty fourth in line to the throne, so they were obviously not perfectly safe."
40,110 / 50,000
Nov 2, 2009 - 21 39
Background: my narrator is talking with the lead prosecutor in the trial of the man who killed his girlfriend.
She laughed. If there’s one thing she hated about the way the media cover trials, it’s when they portray the defendant as a monster, as something less-than-human.
She smiled at me and said that the media get it wrong. There are people out there who represent the worst in us. People who will say and do things that will disgust you to no end. Truly horrible, repulsive, reprehensible dredges of humanity, however you want to define it. But they still represent a piece of humanity. We’ll all be lost when we start dehumanizing everyone else. When they do wrong, they deserve to be caught and punished to the full extent the law will allow, and we can take everything they hold dear away from them. The one thing we can’t take away, is their humanity.
33,525 / 50,000
Nov 2, 2009 - 21 01
All of these look great so far!
----------40,110 / 50,000
Nov 2, 2009 - 21 37
Here's another excerpt from my novel that I like:
Another thing my daddy always said was to make sure you’ve got a firm handshake. He and my uncle had what looked like a game to see who could squeeze the other’s hand harder, faster and for longer. They both imparted that on me. It’s a sign of confidence and, in its own way, it’s a way to gain some kind of domination over the man whose hand you’re shaking.
I do need to underscore that this is truly a guy thing. When I shake a woman’s hand, I am a lot more gentle. I actually use both of my hands when shaking a woman’s hand, clasping her hand firmly yet comfortingly, when I take it.
So shaking Nick’s hand was an experience. His hands were course and calloused, and his grip was as firm and confident as any I’ve ever felt. When I squeezed his hand the way I always do, he laughed. I’ve had people wince. I’ve had people try and squeeze my hand right back. But I’ve never had someone just laugh the way Nick did.
When he started to laugh, I let go. Didn’t mean to, but it just so caught me off-guard, I didn’t know what else to do.
“Good handshake, boy,” he said to me. “Looks like you’ve done time breaking rocks, too.”
24,566 / 50,000
Nov 4, 2009 - 12 15
I really like this!
24,566 / 50,000
Nov 4, 2009 - 12 15
i mean the handshake one.
40,110 / 50,000
Nov 5, 2009 - 06 29
Here's a snippet out of my writing session from yesterday:
The monster in my bedroom lived in my closet. I never really saw him, and I had no sense of what that monster would actually do if he had the chance to grab me, but I knew he was there. I remember one time, I must’ve been about five or six years old, something really spooked me and I went running down the stairs, crying, to my daddy.
At first, he was upset with me, for being up so late at night, but whatever he felt, he knew that I was upset and him getting upset wouldn’t help any. So he knelt down and gave me a big hug. He had a deep, smooth voice that, coupled with the slow, calm tone he tried to exude, you couldn’t help but be calmed by his words. The words didn’t matter. All he had to do was speak and I started to calm down.
He wiped the last tear from my eye and smiled at me. He asked me what was wrong and I told him about the monster.
It wasn’t immediate, but after a second or two, he smiled at me. “I demonsterized that room before you first slept in that room. I guess it needs some more, huh?”
He stood up and went into the kitchen. He pulled out a small spray bottle. I never saw any labels on the bottle, but I have to assume it was an air freshener or something. He shook the bottle and said that it felt like there was some more “demonsterizer” in the can.
He led me back up the stairs and, before we even entered my room, he sprayed all around the doorway into my bedroom.
He looked at me and gave me the kind of a smile that a hunter who knows his prey has been cornered, and said, “That might be enough to get him out of your room, but we’ll go in and spray some more, OK?”
I meekly nodded my head yes. He told me to wait back in the doorway for a minute, as he slowly stepped into my room and sprayed whatever it was into the air. Then he gave my dresser a couple of spritzes.
He raised one hand to his lips and he gave me a “shhh” look, using the other hand to gesture me into the room. Without saying a word, he pointed at the bed and the closet, to ask me where the monster was. I pointed to the closet. Grinning broadly, he nodded, turned around with a dramatic flair, and walked confidently towards the closet. He sprayed all around the door and reached for the handle. He opened the closet quickly and the monster was gone. He sprayed four or five times into the emptiness and turned back towards me.
“Looks like you’re safe now, kid.” He asked me if I wanted him to spray the bed, too, and I shrugged and said, “Sure.”
22,096 / 50,000
Nov 5, 2009 - 07 47
"She wasn’t the sort of woman who liked to hold babies, she preferred to hold conversations."
----------People don't become writers because they're crazy, people go crazy by becoming writers.
37,111 / 50,000
Nov 5, 2009 - 12 29
((Here's the situation. The main character is planning to put something in a jerkish character's drink. He is talking to his friend.))
“Tell me what it is!”
“Three guesses.”
“A mushroom?”
“Nope.”
“Poison ivy?”
“Good idea, but that’s not it. I’ll keep that in mind, though.”
“Hmm, let me see. Those little blue caterpillars that give birds upset stomachs?”
“Third time’s the charm, my friend!"
37,111 / 50,000
Nov 7, 2009 - 13 52
Melkor started off towards the city with a joy in his heart and an irritatingly catchy tune in his head.
43,361 / 50,000
Nov 7, 2009 - 15 29
People don't get enough credit for what they go through in their battle with a disease. You see these people on the streets every day, and they seem so normal on the outside. But what lies on the inside, is something extraordinary. An emotional strength so large, that nothing quite intimidates them anymore. These people are willing to step out of their comfort zone to do what they love. They are willing to go against society standards, and be ridiculed for what they believe. These people are willing to start a long journey, to reach their wildest dreams and goals. Even if they foresee huge obstacles in the way, they are not afraid. Why? Because they are survivors.
22,096 / 50,000
Nov 11, 2009 - 07 36
My story so far has been horridly lacking in description (I haven't even described the major characters' appearances!) which is very unusual for me, so I've been trying to drag more description out of myself today and wanted to tack this little excerpt here as my favorite line so far, for this week anyway. The words themselves need tweaking, but at least I'm starting to breathe some emotion into my story!
"Like high tension electrical wires, he was taut, but focused in a line of purpose. Caroline walked that taut line like a tight rope artist who wasn’t sure if the rope was going to snap from under her feet before she made it to the other end. At least she could see the rope today. The net she couldn’t see, but she told herself that didn’t mean there wasn’t one."
----------People don't become writers because they're crazy, people go crazy by becoming writers.