Opening Lines

Okay so I am a very S L O W writer, when I don’t have a deadline. But I am pushing myself to be more proactive with my writing. Because of this I am both revamping old pieces and starts, as well as writing new material. 

A few of the opening lines to various projects are bellow:


“Luckily, my parents were hippies before they were Christians.”


I once knew a girl who fell in love with a chili dog. Okay, I fell in love with a chili dog.”


“I arrived at La Guardia Airport at around 5pm on a Tuesday night in mid December 2004. The city skyline illuminated by the setting winter sun, the glares, bouncing off of shiny buildings, and the harbor and her lady Freedom quickly zoomed in and out of site as the small plane I had hopped in Philadelphia, glided down slowly and with great care, to land shakily, as I suppose is the norm. ”


I have always had an independent streak, or in my case maybe it’s a mile.”


I’m standing in Egypt, arguing with a man half my height about the daily rate for a camel. How on earth did I get here? ” 



“My mothers family history is steeped in the deep southern heritage of several decades of Scotch-English immigrant grit and whisky.”

“Her green cargo pants plumed and billowed and folded around her ankles.”


“Jim was determined. This would be the year. The year he would finally do nothing.  “


“Eager faced 9th graders talked loudly of high school ambitions and expectations, while the shyer freshman pretended to be busy by looking in notebooks, or peering into the vastness of book-bags, or sharpening and re-sharpening pencils. “


“I always had it figured that I would like Sue Allen White much better with a bullet between her eyes. In 1919 I found out I was dead right.” 


Eons before now….

Chaos, the real, awoke and saw that they were empty, and because of the chaos was creative and destructive they birthed a dark, unknowable, swirling, vibrating, cloud of energy.”


“Today I went to the park and sat by the river. Pretending I was a romantic, I let myself soak in the fading sun, its streamers of spring promise waving like a little girl twirling ribbons of light and warmth across the green St. Augustine.”

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