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First line of your novel?

The famous man starred at the old cup.
"How do you star?", she asked pedantically

*awaits cheesy*

I wasn't going to comment on any, just let them stand - but that was before I ruined my beautiful thread. :cool:
:D

About two thirds, I think. I did loads in China and have done fuck all this year.
Write two sentences of it tonight and then stop. :cool:

It's Stewart Lee's attempt at a typical Dan Brown sentence. Well recognised :D
I was going to take the piss but I see there's no need!
 
I was always a contrary sort, musty of gusset and a fine head of hair to boot.
 
Should that be "took"? It seems a little clumsy as it is.

Everyone's a critic, you get on with yours eh, you've only written one line. I want a chapter by lunch tomorrow.

Mine would be -

We lived behind Desolation Row

It needs a bit of work but I think it's a winner. :cool:
 
"I thought it was a dream but then I realised they were real baked beans in my hair, face and all over the floor."
 
once upon a time there was a beautiful princess with big norks and it was a very windy day and all her clothes blew off.
 
I sat down to write a line, but it ended up a paragraph.:eek:

Here it is:


The cat lifted its head sharply and stared towards Jaye. But it did not see him. There was terror in its eyes. Jaye could tell that it was terror, even though eyes are eyes and he could not pinpoint any one thing about them that was different. But the cat's dream had not forged durable pathways in its brain, and the trauma, whatever it had been, drained from its mind in a second. Its heart was pumping as fast as if it had been running, but it judged without knowing that it was judging that the causes of this anomaly were not worth pursuing. It jumped down from the sofa and headed for the kitchen, where it knew that food was to be found. Jaye looked down at the matt of fine hairs the cat had left behind. It had curled up in the same spot every night for the last month, and soon it would feel the urge to find itself a new bed. Jaye felt ashamed, as if he were being judged by someone, someone he could love. He leaned over and set to brushing the cat hairs out of the fabric with the side of his hand.
 
I sat down to write a line, but it ended up a paragraph.:eek:

Here it is:


The cat lifted its head sharply and stared towards Jaye. But it did not see him. There was terror in its eyes. Jaye could tell that it was terror, even though eyes are eyes and he could not pinpoint any one thing about them that was different. But the cat's dream had not forged durable pathways in its brain, and the trauma, whatever it had been, drained from its mind in a second. Its heart was pumping as fast as if it had been running, but it judged without knowing that it was judging that the causes of this anomaly were not worth pursuing. It jumped down from the sofa and headed for the kitchen, where it knew that food was to be found. Jaye looked down at the matt of fine hairs the cat had left behind. It had curled up in the same spot every night for the last month, and soon it would feel the urge to find itself a new bed. Jaye felt ashamed, as if he were being judged by someone, someone he could love. He leaned over and set to brushing the cat hairs out of the fabric with the side of his hand.
aces. Very complete.
 
Busted :(


e2a: norked? :confused:

Pronounced like orchid?

Anyway, you're derailing your own thread.

So you think my idea is worth expanding on? Lbj's made my eyes bleed tbh. Does he know about paragraphs and stuff yet?
 
Dunno yet, but it will almost certainly be something to do with the vampires on Clapham Common, or possibly Young Conservatives in the late 80s, and quite possibly both.

First I have to finish writing about the werewolves in Finsbury Park.
 
I don't care what they say about me, I was right. And now they're all dead so I guess I win the argument by default.
 
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