Here are the opening lines to my one completely finished book (which will never be published, but that's another story):
“Anne! Anne, are you up here?”
Anne turned
from the window, wiping the tears from her cheeks. She sniffed. She didn’t want
Liz to see her crying. She walked over to her bed, replaced her mother’s
picture on her dresser, and sat with her back against the headboard.
“Anne?” Liz
cracked her door open and peeked in.
“Yes, I’m
here,” she replied.
“Are you
pouting?”
“Of course
not,” she replied testily.
Liz walked
closer, and Anne turned her head so she couldn’t see her red eyes and nose.
“You can’t
hide it, Anne. You’ve been crying.”
Anne sighed
and looked back at Liz. “Okay, fine, but I was upset. It’s not a crime to cry.”
“You should
cry over someone worth crying about,” she said tersely. “Really, you’re taking
this too hard.”
Anne opened
her mouth to reply, then bit back her words. It would do no good to yell at
Liz. She was not the one at fault. No, Anne was mad at her father. And telling
Liz that she was the one who got to do anything she wanted, got to spend as
much as she wanted, and got to date as much as she wanted, while Anne had to
stay at home and play good little mom to their younger sister, Mary… well, that
wouldn’t make her sound mature or responsible. And that would make her father
more upset.
So, does reading this much make you want to read further?
Here are more opening lines, from a rough draft of a story:
"Hurry, Elaine, catch up," her mom called.
Elaine looked up, nervous and excited, fearful yet proud. Her kindergarten registration day. Big girl now... that's what Mom had just said as she'd hurried her from the car to the school's big double doors. They'd walked down the tiled hallway together, Elaine's dress shoes making a "tap tap" sound that echoed in the quiet. Her mother's shoes didn't make more than a quiet shuffle, so she'd tried to walk on her toes, but that just made her walk too slow. Now her mom was holding the classroom door open and beckoning her to come to her side.
In four noisy, clattering steps, Elaine ran to her mother's side and peered in the door. It was huge. It was... colorful. And there, sitting at a kidney-bean shaped table, was her teacher, Mrs. Jorgensen. The lady had light brown, closely curled hair, wrinkles, and a nice smile. But Elaine still didn't want to budge from the doorway, despite her mother's increasing pressure on the back of her head.
"Come in!" Mrs. Jorgensen called. "You must be Mrs. Radcliffe."
"Yes," her mother called, a little too brightly. "And this is Elaine." She stepped into the room and let the door begin to swing closed, so Elaine had no choice but to step inside and avoid being crunched in the doorway. Her mom took her arm and led her to the table. "Sorry we are late," she said with a sigh. "I had to leave my other children with the babysitter."
...............................
And that's it for now! Opening lines... not quite as epic as "It was a dark and stormy night..." but let me know if they are effective.
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