Last week’s challenge: “Antag/Protag.”
This is a two-part challenge.
First part of the challenge is a part we’ve done here before: opening lines. I want you to write the opening sentence to a story. That’s it. Just the opening sentence. Can be suggestive of any genre. Should be no more than 50 words (and even that’s pretty long — you’re best keeping it roughly at “tweet” length).
A good opening line is punchy. It may have a question implicit — or, at least, is itself a hook that will snare the reader by the neck and drag them into the tale whether he likes it or not.
Write the opening line.
Post it below.
You get one entry.
Your due date is — note this change — Thursday at noon EST (8/9).
Because then by Friday I will have picked my three favorite opening lines.
And each of those three people will get an early e-copy of BAIT DOG, the Atlanta Burns sequel. Three formats available: PDF, ePub, and MOBI. Oh, but we ain’t done yet, my little squidlings.
Then, your next challenge will be to write a story using one of those three opening lines as, well, the opening line to a piece of 1000-word flash fiction. More details next week.
Good?
Let’s read some opening lines, then.
Andrew Linder says:
“So Dave, what happens when a dick, a priest, and a briefcase walk into a bar?” the mustachioed bartender growled.
August 3, 2012 — 10:54 PM
Shoshana Kessock says:
The dentist worked extra hard to ignore my fangs and focused on my cavities.
August 3, 2012 — 11:20 PM
Exi says:
A frozen burrito is, in some respects, the perfect weapon.
August 3, 2012 — 11:26 PM
Van says:
One thing you should know about me: people come to me to die.
August 4, 2012 — 12:30 AM
Paul Draker says:
What’s the worst thing you ever did?
August 4, 2012 — 1:24 AM
Veda says:
They say make lemonade out of lemons but I’m more of a whiskey man, so I took a swig from my flask before flicking off the safety and took aim at his head instead.
August 4, 2012 — 1:32 AM
Michael Fossbakk says:
When people meet me they, at one point or another, ask me, cautiously, how I lost my sight.
August 4, 2012 — 3:00 AM
Imelda Evans says:
I know this isn’t a voting thing, but if it were, my vote would be with Gareth…
And no, that’s not an opening line – although, come to think of it, it could be a pick up line. 😉
August 4, 2012 — 5:07 AM
Ryan Sayles says:
“Please tell me he was dead before you started eating him,” she says, choking back her disgust-again-because she already knows the answer.
August 4, 2012 — 5:56 AM
R.K. says:
The bridge made of dinosaur bones creaked under Nasreeni’s heavy boots as she spun around on three legs screaming a pterodactyl cry of triumph.
August 4, 2012 — 6:47 AM
Rosalind Smith-Nazilli says:
She knew Quınlan was dead, knew without any doubt because she, his wife, had watched him climb over the balcony railing and throw himself off without attempting to do anything to stop him.
August 4, 2012 — 7:29 AM
CJ Lemire says:
It was on Tuesday, the 3rd of July, that Mary Ellen Dufresne’s libido jolted awake from its long slumber.
August 4, 2012 — 7:46 AM
David Grigg says:
It was a cold day in Hell.
August 4, 2012 — 8:13 AM
Suzie says:
As I raised the trophy above my head, the crowd behind me sent up a howl — a howl of wretched despair.
August 4, 2012 — 9:54 AM
Sheryl Kee says:
The shadow wrung itself inside out, birthing my ghost with a soft cry.
August 4, 2012 — 9:54 AM
churnage says:
When I saw my wife dancing with her boss at the Christmas party, I knew it was over.
August 4, 2012 — 11:13 AM
mythago says:
The Devil frowned, glanced at his watch again and swished his tail like a cat, and Leland knew he was just about out of tricks.
August 4, 2012 — 12:52 PM
Anninyn says:
The world ended because my mother wore a nasty hat.
August 4, 2012 — 2:09 PM
oldestgenxer says:
I think pixies have very short memories–it stands to reason, as they tiny creatures.
August 4, 2012 — 3:47 PM
KRVeale says:
I was an obvious choice for the job, since the only criteria were ‘has a lot of free time on their hands,’ and ‘ruinously difficult to kill.’
August 4, 2012 — 7:06 PM
RC Cross says:
I woke up in San Diego with a .38 and a hangover.
August 4, 2012 — 8:51 PM
Decaying Orbits says:
The boat rocked lazily in the surf, its mast a smoking stump where the sentry buoy laser had severed it.
August 4, 2012 — 9:13 PM
M. Chapman says:
Screams echoe over my head as I dig my blades deeper into that fool’s writhing flesh.
August 4, 2012 — 10:20 PM
Tim Whitcher says:
No one knows the real me and it’s safer that way.
August 4, 2012 — 11:35 PM
Hunter Stewart says:
Doug was in a sticky situation. He chuckled out of delirium. It was true; his blood was sticky, and it was all over the situation.
August 5, 2012 — 12:25 AM
Ben says:
The unimaginable pain, the life running from your body and your vision going black, the blood draining from your veins as you stare into the face of your own personal Death; that was The Dark Man’s job, he was that personal Death.
August 5, 2012 — 12:37 AM
Aurora says:
Tess had been running around outside barefoot all day, and her feet hurt.
August 5, 2012 — 1:46 AM
inkgrrl says:
Some people would have called the sweaty guy duct-taped and roped to the water pipe in the corner a prisoner, but Bob preferred to maintain a more genteel tone in his work.
August 5, 2012 — 2:53 AM
A.M. Schultz says:
Having to pee ten minutes before show time is bad luck.
August 5, 2012 — 4:53 AM
Matt says:
Hey, Chuck. I know this has nothing to do with flash fiction, but I highly recommend you watch “Indie Game: The Movie”, if you haven’t already, of course. It involves a lot of things writers go through (like depression, block [game designer block?], the worry before finishing, and the immense joy after you find that people like it) and it would be neat if you made a post about it. I mean, if you can of course. Just saying. And it’s also an insanely well-made documentary with a kickin’ soundtrack and everything IS JUST SO FUDGING AWESOME.
August 5, 2012 — 8:11 AM
Jonathan says:
James watched a naked toddler toddle down the flooded Main Street. His little butt was like two marshmallows in the moonlight and the water was following that beacon.
August 5, 2012 — 8:48 AM
Michael ST says:
Today was a good day for them to die.
August 5, 2012 — 9:13 AM
angel011 says:
I almost stumbled over a corpse on my way to take out the garbage.
August 5, 2012 — 10:08 AM
James Clark says:
Gutierrez’ face creased into an unpleasant smile as he placed a bullet of his own next to mine on the green felt; that smile only got wider as he turned over his cards.
August 5, 2012 — 10:15 AM
Adrian George Nicolae says:
Somebody was feeling good about himself, an A is all it was needed to take his brains away and wonder what could happen if he did the next thing.
August 5, 2012 — 11:08 AM
Thomas Namdar says:
Again, I find myself on the wrong side of the railing, facing the wrong kind of direction.
August 5, 2012 — 12:32 PM
Joe Parrino says:
Three truths will I tell you and one lie.
August 5, 2012 — 2:28 PM
R.J.Keith says:
The sky over the Gulf of Mexico, temperamental at the best of times, stands clear and cool. Ice blue with nary a cloud to be seen. No wind, tail or otherwise. Even the water, far below his humming arship shimmers, winking at him with a trick of the light.
August 5, 2012 — 2:46 PM
Mitch Marty says:
Eugene rested the barrel of his gun on the head of hatred, cocked the hammer, and then shot it a wry smile like there was a photographer on stand-by to snap their engagement photos.
August 5, 2012 — 3:32 PM
Beth L. says:
As he turned the corner, the smell let him know everything he needed to except for what to do next.
August 5, 2012 — 3:56 PM
Sarah Michaels says:
The child was unremarkable.
August 5, 2012 — 5:06 PM
J. M. says:
No one knows what it’s like to be the bad man, to be the sad man, behind blue eyes.
August 5, 2012 — 7:47 PM
becca says:
The man ran along the river, beard flowing in the breeze, naked as the day he was born – except for his hat.
August 5, 2012 — 9:21 PM
lovelylici1986 says:
Everyone on campus had a weapon, so I tightened my grip on the scissors in my pocket.
August 6, 2012 — 12:31 AM
Love The Bad Guy says:
There is no darkness in his dreams.
In life, he is blind; but despite the black emptiness of his vision, he sees. He can hear the hearts of his people, that reassuring drumbeat that echoes from their chests.
August 6, 2012 — 12:37 AM
A.M. Schultz says:
It had been years since Benji read the book, but he remembered Jesus having better sea legs than this.
August 6, 2012 — 5:09 AM
Andrew Freudenberg says:
Sister Mary hiked up the hem of her habit and pulled an enormous pistol from her boot.
August 6, 2012 — 5:40 AM
Georgie Kuna says:
She didn’t speak, but I could see it burning in her eyes: a curdling envy, as bitter and drying on the tongue as un-milked tea.
August 6, 2012 — 9:07 AM
Hobbes says:
“Oh, absolutely I killed him,” I said, grinning at the shock on the cop’s face, “and better yet, I’m gonna help you prove it.”
August 6, 2012 — 11:26 AM
Mike McNulty says:
We just got a new kitten that we named after Grandma, but I think “Whiskers” might be a lot more trouble than she’s worth.
August 6, 2012 — 11:50 AM