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shalanna(Where this came from: Someone posted a similar opening line on one of the workshop lists, saying that her critique group had objected to the "past tense opening a present-tense book." I told her that if a native speaker of English could say it to you in a conversation, it's probably right; in other words, I can start an anecdote by telling you something that happened in the past and then relate it to the present. However, I thought her opening line was intriguing.)
Opening passage that doesn't go with anything:
Last week, when I was marching back and forth in front of a jury arguing in favor of a decision against a large corporation to get my client onto disability--and me the social chair of the Renner Service League--I would've laughed at the demented suggestion that today I'd be walking around in front of the "Gentlemen's Ladies Club" (a strip joint containing exactly zero "gentlemen") dressed as a prima ballerina. However, I've got to admit it's working well for the club. I'm getting a lot of attention standing here in the rain.
"Hey, baby," yells a guy from the passenger seat of a passing BMW. "Staying on your toes?" He laughs at his own half-witticism as the light turns green and the car roars off down Lemmon Avenue.
"At least I'm not wearing a sandwich board reading, 'Free Nookie,'" I yell after him. But I wish he hadn't mentioned my toes. Even though I'm not _en pointe_, my feet are getting tired.
The door opens behind me, and Cheryl leans her teased head out. She glances up and down the street (maybe checking for the cops) and then nods at me. "Going good?"
Oh, yeah. Great. I manage a smile.
Opening passage that doesn't go with anything:
Last week, when I was marching back and forth in front of a jury arguing in favor of a decision against a large corporation to get my client onto disability--and me the social chair of the Renner Service League--I would've laughed at the demented suggestion that today I'd be walking around in front of the "Gentlemen's Ladies Club" (a strip joint containing exactly zero "gentlemen") dressed as a prima ballerina. However, I've got to admit it's working well for the club. I'm getting a lot of attention standing here in the rain.
"Hey, baby," yells a guy from the passenger seat of a passing BMW. "Staying on your toes?" He laughs at his own half-witticism as the light turns green and the car roars off down Lemmon Avenue.
"At least I'm not wearing a sandwich board reading, 'Free Nookie,'" I yell after him. But I wish he hadn't mentioned my toes. Even though I'm not _en pointe_, my feet are getting tired.
The door opens behind me, and Cheryl leans her teased head out. She glances up and down the street (maybe checking for the cops) and then nods at me. "Going good?"
Oh, yeah. Great. I manage a smile.
