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Opening Lines – The Westing Game

We all know we’re not supposed to judge a book by its cover (yet, publishing companies spend big bucks on cover design/art). 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’ll throw it up here. Dare you not to read the rest of the book.

—–

The sun sets in the west (just about everyone knows that), but Sunset Towers faced east. Strange!

Sunset Towers faced east and had no towers. This glittery, glassy apartment house stood alone on the Lake Michigan shore five stories high. Five empty stories high.

Then one day (it happened to be the Fourth of July), a most uncommon-looking delivery boy rode around town slipping letters under the doors of the chosen tenants-to-be. The letters were signed Barney Northrup.

The delivery boy was sixty-two years old, and there was no such person as Barney Northrup.

from The Westing Game by Ellen Raskin

Like any good novel (and this is a very good one), so much of the book is revealed in the opening paragraphs — not that we know that at the time, but in retrospect, it’s clear — we get the voice, we get themes, we get clues to the mystery (not that we know what the mystery is). As a kid, I got to that last line and was hooked. How could there not be such a person when the previous sentence said there was? What’s up with the Towers facing the wrong direction? What a strange book.

Opening Lines – Hot Lead, Cold Iron

We all know we’re not supposed to judge a book by its cover (yet, publishing companies spend big bucks on cover design/art). 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’ll throw it up here. Dare you not to read the rest of the book

—–

I really feel that fewer of modern society’s bits and pieces are sadder—more banal, I guess—than a big office. It’s kinda like, once mankind perfected the assembly line, there was nothing left to do but live on it. Desk after bulky desk, endless rows reaching into the distance like railroad tracks to nowhere; constant monotonous clacks and dings of typewriters and adding machines; tacky marble floors—and maybe columns, in the swankier joints—trying to echo the glories of ancient temples and libraries, and miserably failing at it. Honestly, I dunno if it’s more depressing or more boring.

Unless someone’s trying to rub you out in one of ’em. Then I’m pretty damn confident in telling you it’s a lot more depressing than it is boring.

Right that minute, I wasn’t looking at the desks, or the typewriters, or the pillars, because I was staring blearily at the growing puddle of red soaking into the piss-yellow carpet between my scuffed Oxfords. (Yeah, carpet. This was the second story, so no marble flooring here.) It wasn’t a whole lot of leakage, not yet, but the brick-fisted galoots flocking around me seemed right eager to help me add to it. We were having a friendly little get-together, me and the four of them, wherein I was helping them to relax by massaging their knuckles with my cheeks and my gut. Repeatedly; they musta been really tense. But hey, at least the coppery scent in my nose kept me from gagging on the mixed bouquet of old sweat, typewriter oil, and carpet shampoo.

from Hot Lead, Cold Iron by Ari Marmell

Saturday Miscellany — 2/1/14

Odds ‘n ends over the week about books and reading that caught my eye. You’ve probably seen some/most/all of them, but just in case:

    This Week’s New Releases I’m Excited About and/or You’ll Probably See Here Soon. Looks like a bumper crop of good stuff out this week, had a lot of things to sort through.

  • Murder in the Ball Park by Robert Goldsborough — My library had it on the shelf last week, but the 28th was the official release date. My less than positive review is here.
  • Arcanum by Simon Morden — intriguing concept.
  • The Chapel Perilous by Kevin Hearne — Hearne. Iron Druid short. Really don’t need to say more. 33 pages of awesome, I expect.
  • Red Rising by Pierce Brown — hearing many good things — for example, Paul Goat Allen’s Five Reasons You Should Read Pierce Brown’s Red Rising chomping at the bit for this one.
  • http://www.barnesandnoble.com/blog/five-reasons-you-should-read-pierce-browns-red-rising/

  • Shadow Ops: Breach Zone by Myke Cole — the conclusion to the great trilogy is here — am about 1/3 through it at the moment, and it’s hooks are deeply imbedded in me. Frankly, I sorta resent taking the time to do this post today rather than finish it. Check out Cole’s Big Idea post about it if you’re curious. Pretty sure there are entries for the first two, as well.

Opening Lines — Screwed by Eoin Colfer

Been awhile since I’ve done one of these posts, but — nothing against most of the books I’ve read in the meantime — haven’t had a reason to until now.
We all know we’re not supposed to judge a book by its cover (so why do publishing companies spend big bucks on cover design/art?). Opening sentence(s)/paragraph(s) are fair game, in my book. So, when I stumble on a good opening (or remember one and pull it off the shelves), I throw it up here. Dare you not to read the rest of the book

—–

The great Elmore Leonard once said that you should never start a story with weather. That’s all well and good for Mr. Leonard to say and for all his acolytes to scribble into their moleskin notebooks, but sometimes a story starts off with weather and does not give a damn about what some legendary genre guy recommends, even if it is the big EL. So if there’s a weather at the start then that’s where you better put it or the whole thing could unravel and you find yourself with the shavings of a tale swirling around your ankles and no idea how to glue them together again.
So expect some major meteorological conditions smack bang in the middle of Chapter One, and if there were kids and animals around they’d be in here too, screw that old-timey movie-star guy with the cigar and squint eye. The story is what it is.

from Screwed by Eoin Colfer

Random Ruminations: Richard Russo and Looking Ahead to 2014

I’m about at the halfway point in Richard Russo’s The Bridge of Sighs and have just about decided that if I were to find myself in a Master’s program in Literature, I could very easily be content studying the minutiae of his work. I’m sure I could find enough for a few theses at least. Of course, I have no incentive to do more than come up with vague notions and theories, so I’ll have to trust that somewhere out there is an academic with a stronger drive than I and hope I run across their writing.

Besides, if I actually had the chance to do that kind of reading, researching and writing, I’d end up going with Rex Stout, Robert B. Parker or Jim Butcher.

When I finish this book, I’ll be just three books short of most of my goals for the year (10 short of the total I’d hoped to hit — still might make that, but it’s looking grim). I’ll have read all of Russo’s novels at least once; I’m one short of Hemingway’s novels (and a couple of his posthumous works, which I typically don’t do); and 1 to go in both the Stephanie Plum and Kinsey Millhone series to get up to this year’s release (I did that with Jack Reacher this week, and a couple weeks ago totally caught up on the Andy Carpenter books). I’m not sure that actually made sense — hopefully my year-end 2013 post will be clearer.

I’m pretty clueless about what I hope to accomplish in 2014 — get caught up on the Temeraire novels (an unfulfilled 2013 goal), read the rest of the Lydia Chin/Bill Smith and Longmire books. But nothing of a more serious vein. Need to get to work on that — and, as always, I’m open to suggestions.

Which, by the way, is a long way of saying I’m not going to get a rant, rave, or review up today — Russo’s sapping all my attention and energy for the moment, so I could only jot down these few random thoughts.

Have a good Friday, and — always, always — thanks for reading.

Opening lines – Blades of Winter by G.T. Almasi

We all know we’re not supposed to judge a book by its cover (yet, publishing companies spend big bucks on cover design/art). 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’ll throw it up here. Dare you not to read the rest of the book

—–

Nothing pisses me off more than being shot at while I’m eating. It’s the midday rush here in my new favorite restaurant, a cozy Hungarian joint on East 82nd Street. I’m jammed into a small table by the kitchen, with a Redskins cap pulled low over my face. The charming old dining room is packed, and the paneled walls echo the Eastern European barks of the broad, buxom waitresses as they dominate the good-humored customers. The food here is spectacular, but right now I’m kind of distracted by that bullet hurtling straight at my left eye.

from Blades of Winter by G.T. Almasi

Gone Readin’

Nothing new here today, had to choose between reading and blogging — which isn’t that much of a choice, really. Back tomorrow, at least once.

a few pages

In Medias Res: The House of Hades by Rick Riordan

as the title implies, I’m in the middle of this book, so this is not a review, just some thoughts mid-way through

—–

House of Hades
The House of Hades

by Rick Riordan

Okay, we’re in the home stretch of the third mythology-based series from Riordan, and by this time it’s pretty easy to what he’s up to, it’s like clockwork, the way he builds these things.

But just because his books have become formulaic doesn’t mean they’re bad. It’s not the formula, it’s the execution. There’s a reason that NCIS and Law & Order reruns are almost constantly on the air somewhere, they do it right. As does Rick Riordan. Fun, engaging, educational — bah, enough of this, I’m getting back to Percy, Jason, Annabeth, Leo and the rest.

In Medias Res: Islands in the Stream by Ernest Hemingway

as the title implies, I’m in the middle of this book, so this is not a review, just some thoughts mid-way through

—–

Islands in the Stream
Islands in the Stream

by Ernest Hemingway

Part 1 of this had some of the most enjoyable passages (for me) in Hemingway’s works, some things I just didn’t see the point of, but overall I really liked this.

Part 2? Now, that I’m only getting through because I’m stubbornly persisting, that’s all.

I hope Part 3 turns this around.

In Medias Res: The Cuckoo’s Calling

as the title implies, I’m in the middle of this book, so not a review, just thoughts mid-way through

—–

The Cuckoo's Calling
The Cuckoo’s Calling by Robert Galbraith

Without knowing what name is on Robert Galbraith’s birth certificate, I’m not sure if I’d have picked this up off of a bookstore shelf — can’t imagine I would’ve nabbed it at Amazon or Kobo, etc. Maybe, maybe, I’d have grabbed it off of the library‘s New Book Shelf. But at 47% of the way through? I’d be waiting for the sequel. Really enjoying this.

This is not the Rowling of Harry Potter — as it should be, that wouldn’t work for this audience. Even better — this isn’t the Rowling of The Casual Vacancy — thankfully, mercifully, not that Rowling.

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