Show Posts
1
Author Craft / Re: The first line
« on: April 23, 2008, 03:32:44 AM »
From Neal Stephenson's Snow Crash: No one I've ever handed this book to has been able to read the first paragraph and then set it down.
From a short story I wrote a few months ago and will never publish (Can't, it's the dreaded fanfic):
"I awoke from an old dream of my teeth meeting in a man's throat, and for a moment my mouth was again filled with the taste of hot blood and lingering darkness."
Quote
The Deliverator belongs to an elite order, a hallowed subcategory. He's got esprit up to here. Right now, he is preparing to carry out his third mission of the night. His uniform is black as activated charcoal, filtering the very light out of the air. A bullet will bounce off its arachnofiber weave like a wren hitting a patio door, but excess perspiration wafts through it like a breeze through a freshly napalmed forest. Where his body has bony extremities, the suit has sintered armorgel: feels like gritty jello, protects like a stack of telephone books.
From a short story I wrote a few months ago and will never publish (Can't, it's the dreaded fanfic):
"I awoke from an old dream of my teeth meeting in a man's throat, and for a moment my mouth was again filled with the taste of hot blood and lingering darkness."
