Last week’s challenge: Life Is Hell.
I love this challenge because it always generates some interesting results.
It’s easy in concept, difficult in execution:
Come up with a great opening line.
That’s it.
Take that line, and drop it into the comments below.
BUT WAIT.
As they say, THERE’S MORE.
This opening line must be one sentence long — no more than that. Anything longer and I will publicly laugh at your inability to stick to the barest-of-bones submission guidelines.
I’d suggest avoiding some very cliched openings — previous challenges have yielded three overwrought motifs in this particular challenge, those three being:
Blood.
A gun.
Someone about to die / someone already dead (future corpse / current corpse).
So, maybe avoid those things unless you really think you can nail it.
The trick to writing a great opening line is keeping it brief, and yet at the same time suggesting a great deal of potential — an opening line is equal parts promise and fish-hook stuck in the reader’s brain-meats. It should make us want to read the rest of the story. Or, even better, make us as writers want to write the rest of that story (and par usual, that will be the nature of next Friday’s challenge). Nailing the opening line is a Samurai move — it’s delivering a single sword blow to end the match.
There will be a prize.
I’ll pick three that I love. And those three will get the first as-yet-unreleased e-book copies of my newest writing book, 500 Ways To Write Harder. You’ll get the book in PDF, ePub, and Kindle formats, all DRM-free because, really, fuck DRM right in its digital sphincter.
You have one week to get your lines in the door. Due firmly by noon EST on April 18th. I will then pick winners over the next week thereafter. You are allowed one entry, no more. Additional entries disqualify you.
So.
One opening line.
Make it sharp.
Win a book.
Drop it in the comments.
Jonas says:
His breath was a hiss, followed by bubbles.
April 12, 2014 — 7:54 PM
Wayne Thompson says:
Therefore I was lead to ask,” Why do you not trust me?” the response was incredibly hurtful and I wondered what I may do next.
April 12, 2014 — 8:11 PM
Apep says:
You might think that, after the first few dozen times, dying wouldn’t hurt quite so much.
April 12, 2014 — 8:13 PM
Alex Kyrikos says:
Immortality sucks.
April 12, 2014 — 8:48 PM
Doreen Queen says:
Love it!
April 14, 2014 — 12:25 PM
Griffin Stiles says:
“Hello,” said the corpse, a finger casually detaching itself and falling to the ground.
April 12, 2014 — 9:07 PM
TJ says:
Neil’s neck strained to pull his face down and to the side in an awkward attempt to wipe the new smear of blood off his face and onto what was left of his shirt.
April 12, 2014 — 9:33 PM
Kimberley says:
She held the ashes in her hand; the memory of what she’d done a fractured seed scarring her fingers.
April 12, 2014 — 9:46 PM
Eric Ralph says:
You’d think any good mystery would start with blood, a gun, and a dead body, but this one starts with The Dhammapada and six ounces of whisky.
April 12, 2014 — 10:34 PM
AJ Snook says:
Awesome, but wouldn’t six shots of whisky sound better? Or a fifth? Or is that cliche?
April 14, 2014 — 12:21 AM
Jacob Quarterman says:
It was just like the day I got shot in the face, only it was a lot hotter, and I was wearing pants.
April 12, 2014 — 10:40 PM
Allison Forsythe says:
I think this one might be my favourite.
April 18, 2014 — 10:07 PM
Jessica says:
If sex was really all it was cracked up to be, it wouldn’t be found at the bottom of a bottle of Jose Cuervo.
April 12, 2014 — 10:55 PM
Jakob says:
Now, Shirley wasn’t quite sure, but she knew something was off the moment a knife stabbed through her ribs, the blade tearing her shirt.
April 12, 2014 — 11:53 PM
Jackie Keswick says:
This made me think the knife’s coming out of her inside… first the ribs, then the shirt. That would make an interesting beginning.
April 14, 2014 — 4:44 AM
murgatroid98 says:
Hmm, back stabbing? Good one.
April 19, 2014 — 10:49 AM
Terry O'Brien says:
He thrust the barrel of the gun into the blood pooling under the dead body, and the gun responded by sucking up every last sanguine drop.
April 13, 2014 — 12:30 AM
Rio says:
Hey! That’s not how guns work!
April 13, 2014 — 9:37 PM
Hana Frank says:
Every morning the Genie begged her to make a wish, but Rhonda couldn’t decide, couldn’t choose.
April 13, 2014 — 1:50 AM
Hana Frank says:
http://hanafrank.blogspot.com
April 13, 2014 — 2:30 AM
Ville-Markus Nevalainen says:
To survive I had to be willing to do awful things, things that would haunt me for the rest of my life, but did it even matter, when I knew that I could not control the ever growing hate and anger inside of me?
April 13, 2014 — 6:31 AM
Melanie says:
After nearly fifteen years, his cell door clicked for the last time, but waking to find the child still standing by his bed, George knew it was not over, and the dream would have to wait.
April 13, 2014 — 6:47 AM
Jessica says:
How the hell was I supposed to know the President was allergic to peanuts?
April 13, 2014 — 7:16 AM
tanyaj (@redcat8095) says:
love this one!
April 14, 2014 — 12:32 AM
Julian D Greene says:
This sparks the imagination! Tell me more!
April 14, 2014 — 1:46 AM
bohomegs says:
Loneliness can certainly make a person do strange things, but on one particularly crisp winter morning, David took his quest for connection a little too far.
April 13, 2014 — 7:43 AM
Julian D Greene says:
You definitely have my curiosity.
April 14, 2014 — 1:37 AM
Peter Welmerink says:
You might be the first undead soldier ever to wander unhindered on the city streets.
April 13, 2014 — 7:53 AM
Elvie says:
I board the plane bound to nowhere at half past six, still holding my wife’s flipflops.
April 13, 2014 — 9:45 AM
Julian D Greene says:
Hmmm…I’d be more interested if it were bound for somewhere specific, or location omitted all together.
April 14, 2014 — 1:38 AM
Moya says:
“The vaccuum cleaner,” she gasped, “Armageddon started with the vaccuum cleaner!”
April 13, 2014 — 10:42 AM
Liz says:
Lucy Monaghan dressed as a nun even though she wasn’t one.
April 13, 2014 — 11:49 AM
Amy says:
John knew his back was broken even before he hit the ground and didn’t feel it.
April 13, 2014 — 12:28 PM
Michael Trimmer says:
‘Pool’ looked like it had stopped being a good descriptor for the blood several hours ago.
April 13, 2014 — 2:06 PM
Brent McGuffin says:
On the day the world that he knew ended, Bobby was in a strange town with the wrong girl.
April 13, 2014 — 2:07 PM
Johan says:
I was certain of two things: everybody in town, including me, were disgusted by my father, and everybody in town, including me, could see that I was transforming into him; gesture by gesture, insult by insult.
April 13, 2014 — 3:56 PM
Rio says:
Soooo good!
April 13, 2014 — 4:04 PM
Johan says:
Thanks for the kind words!
It seems like my two minutes of editing left me with an unwanted “were”. Slide a new editor under the door, please. And a “was”, if you can find one.
April 13, 2014 — 4:55 PM
Julian D Greene says:
Good catch! And definitely a nice lead in.
April 14, 2014 — 1:39 AM
Melissa Wright says:
This is great – it does a lot without trying to do too much.
April 15, 2014 — 2:24 AM
josephsidari says:
No matter how many times I had died, this one had to be the the worst–not because of the gruesome method, nor the mid-numbing pain, but because this time I knew it would be the last.
April 13, 2014 — 3:56 PM
josephsidari says:
oops…an extra ‘the’
No matter how many times I had died, this one had to be the worst–not because of the gruesome method, nor the mid-numbing pain, but because this time I knew it would be the last.
April 13, 2014 — 4:02 PM
L.B. Zumpshon says:
Ted cursed at the skeleton of a coffee table on the floor and decided he needed more beer, while the llama watching him on the roof across the street confirmed there was no suspicious activity to report.
April 13, 2014 — 6:13 PM
churnage says:
I had been waiting to see the funeral director for nearly an hour when a naked woman ran through the reception area.
April 13, 2014 — 6:36 PM
murgatroid98 says:
That certainly opens up some possibilities. A woman who doesn’t want to be embalmed, isn’t dead, or both.
April 19, 2014 — 10:54 AM
mtharpin says:
The fat ginger was leaking lies like a punctured wineskin.
April 13, 2014 — 8:09 PM
Yvette says:
La Mancha was shaped like a thick tree branch and covered with conical spines that began at my elbow and ended in the heart of my palm.
April 13, 2014 — 9:13 PM
RTAllwin says:
It had been raining all my life and today promised to be no different – until I saw her walking toward me, dragging the sun behind her on a short red leash.
April 13, 2014 — 9:51 PM
Julian D Greene says:
Love this. I like your protagonist already.
April 14, 2014 — 1:42 AM
Carrie Johns says:
He chose to speak first, bravado dripping from his voice and puddling around his sneakers – at least, that’s what he hoped that was, and not urine.
April 13, 2014 — 10:12 PM
S. J. Paige says:
When I was two-years-old, I fell into a hole at a cemetery.
April 13, 2014 — 11:51 PM
Emmerson Saunders says:
I woke up to the diffuse mumbling of my iguana and unholy screeching of my wife on a Wednesday I had already lived three times before.
April 14, 2014 — 12:12 AM
Lee Thompson says:
Up until last week I thought the worst night of my life was when the O’Connell brothers nailed my dad to a tree.
April 14, 2014 — 12:16 AM
Melissa Wright says:
This is promising! You’ve made me curious.
April 15, 2014 — 2:27 AM
rhyfry says:
Walking across the snow muffled cobblestones of Prague, Selyn began to think of what life would be like if she were normal, but then again it would be kind of boring wouldn’t it?
April 14, 2014 — 12:18 AM
shambition says:
I know it sounds bad, but I can explain.
April 14, 2014 — 12:30 AM
Doreen Queen says:
I like this one!
April 14, 2014 — 12:19 PM
Steven Cowles says:
She jumped through the mirror just as the hounds arrived.
April 14, 2014 — 12:37 AM
murgatroid98 says:
Ooh, I like this one. What kind of hounds, what kind of mirror? Why?
April 19, 2014 — 10:56 AM
L May says:
It was not the chandelier earrings that caught my eye, nor his yarmulke, but rather the way he towered over the morning crowd.
April 14, 2014 — 12:40 AM
Jack Gardner says:
The smoke coming from the burning old folks home smelled like goblin piss and melting plastic.
April 14, 2014 — 1:04 AM
Julian D Greene says:
Normally at new moon, the tiny clouds would swell to giant thunderheads by noon, but given last month’s nil result when she hadn’t intervened, she wasn’t taking any chances.
April 14, 2014 — 1:35 AM
Julian D Greene says:
Forgot to check the notify box. ><
April 14, 2014 — 1:43 AM
Julian D Greene says:
Really need an edit button here. Re-read it 400 times before you hit “Post,” but you’ll see it 5 minutes later.
Normally at new moon, the tiny clouds would swell to giant thunderheads by noon, but given the lack of rain last month when she hadn’t intervened, she wasn’t taking any chances.
April 14, 2014 — 1:57 AM
Mat Hockey says:
“You traded my magic beans for a fucking cow?” When Terri put it like that I did feel kind of silly.
April 14, 2014 — 2:01 AM
Chris Ostrowski says:
Never run with…..a chainsaw.
April 14, 2014 — 2:22 AM
aspeed says:
When the wormholes started opening all across the planet, they finally started listening to me.
April 14, 2014 — 2:29 AM
Sarrah says:
She slipped off her robe and glided into bed next to him, pulling the covers over them, embracing his body as she did every night for so many years now time meant nothing to her or her beloved husband long since deceased.
April 14, 2014 — 2:57 AM
Andy Cowley says:
I’m afraid you have it wrong, he didn’t come into work DRESSED AS a hat-stand, he came into work AS a hat-stand.
April 14, 2014 — 3:07 AM
calemed1 says:
The day she should have been allowed to mourn her son’s death at a proper funeral, Eleanor made an appointment at the salon to maintain appearances.
April 14, 2014 — 3:24 AM