Saturday, March 12, 2011

Finish it

I know.  I know.  I know. I challenge my readers to write a response to the opening line of The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman and then I don't do what I ask of others.  I know . . . I am ashamed.

But alas!  I shall post my response here.  Today.  Right now.  Just a sec', I need to refill my coffee . . . .

Okay, here goes.

In the darkness was a hand
And in the hand was a knife.

   Her knuckles curled and shifted as the flat side of the blade slowly bumped against them, slicing down and lifting again—bump, slice, lift, shift; bump, slice, lift shift; bump, slice, lift, shift.She carved delicately, protecting her own flesh first.She surprised herself at how well she was catching on to the tasks that had once been familiar to hand and eye.
   Now, only her hands saw.
   Last night, her ears had heard and her nose had sniffed—expensive cologne, aftershave, hair tonic.
   In the darkness, her hands searched.
   Her feet ran, feeling carpet give way to linoleum. Her hands saw knobs and pulled.  Her ears heard metal and plastic and wood shift against each other. Her ears heard the soft treading of a monster.
   Her hands saw the knife and gripped it.
   Carpet gave way to linoleum and soft treading gave way to gentle pressing.
   Her hands hid the knife.
   A shadow crossed over her and a heat oppressed her.
   Her hands and knife sought, saw, and made their mark--

I can take and I appreciate criticism.  Now that I've offered my work, can we have a writer's conversation?  See you soon . . .!

Friday, January 7, 2011

New favorite author

Since my last (and only) post, I have been busy building a house, ramping up my work, and managing a new household by myself.  I thoroughly enjoy it!

But on to what I'd like to share today.

A new favorite author is Neil Gaiman.  He wrote Coraline, which I know my children have seen, and he wrote my latest read, The Graveyard Book which I pinched from my son's library pile he brought home.  It opens with what I believe is the world's best opening line:

In the darkness was a hand
and in the hand was a knife.

So share with me, readers, how would you carry the story forward from there?  I'll post my story--won't you?

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Kickoff post

"Words by which I live" started out as "Words to live by" but this former English teacher, former homeschooler, and current journalist couldn't bear to have a preposition at the end of the sentence.  I believe Mark Twain said something to the effect of "A preposition at the end of a sentence is something up with which I will not put."  Ah, cumbersome, but lovely to my ears.  Of course, after a few glasses of wine, don't be surprised if "ain't" or a drawling curse comes out of my cabernet mouth.

Cheers and love,