We all know we’re not supposed to judge a book by its cover (yet, publishing companies spend big bucks on cover design/art and we all do judge them that way). But, the opening sentence(s)/paragraph(s) are fair game. So, when I stumble on a good opening (or remember one and pull it off the shelves), I like to throw it up here (especially if I’m out of time to come up with a post that involves writing on my part).
from Murder by Memory by Olivia Waite:
Near the topmost deck, in a small lift with glass walls and flickering buttons, I, Dorothy Gentleman, ship’s detective, opened a pair of eyes and licked a pair of lips and awoke in a body that wasn’t mine.
It was the nails that first tipped me off. Blank bodies were just that: blank. My nails ought to have been the same color as the skin beneath—in my case, somewhere in a range of pinks, tending to florid.
Not silver, and not shaped.
This body was already inhabited.
My skin—someone’s skin—broke out in gooseflesh. Of course every human body was a horrifying collection of juices and tissues, acids and effluvia poured into a bag with a bunch of long rocks, a shambling accident of biology that made its own mysterious and often frustrating decisions without reference to the mind. They were disgusting miracles, every one. It was always a bit unsettling to wake up in a fresh form, until habit made a home of it.
But someone else’s home, and my self inside it! A nightmare. Imagine going to the washroom to be sick and having someone else’s sick come out.
I came very close to making this more than a metaphor. It took many deep, deliberate breaths for the squeamish feeling to subside.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
Read Irresponsibly, but please Comment Responsibly