How many fiction writers do we have here?

[TheBard]

Here's my WIP. Please, be gentle.

2050, a California beach near Monterey:

Rachel danced around Isa, watchedher stand in the sand, her eyes covered by a blindfold. Isa, never one to be still, was shuffling her feet, the heat of the sun-baked sand beginning to hurt, herself moving in a small, dizzying circle. Isa didn't need her eyes to tell her the sounds of her children were happy ones.

[big soft moose]

" they say it started when someone ****ed a monkey , if that's true I hope he had fun because he certainly shafted the rest of us" (its not starred out in the text, but i wasnt sure what the forum policy is on naughty words)

[cowgirl326]

WIPs all in the same universe.

One is a really dark story- which I'm lead to believe is going to be 3 different parts because of trauma that happens to my protagonist, and recovering from it all.

Another one is 10 years or so later.



I'm vague at the moment for the plot, because well- spoilers.

[Harold Saxon]

This was done for a class about metqaphors and similes. I don't know why this came up, It's not what I usually write, but I thought it interesting.

The weekend at last. A marathon couldn’t be more draining than this week.
A cold beer awaits for me. A beer, late night TV is heaven sent.

The door opens. A late night disturbance. My beer and late night TV will have to wait. The call is from a building in the dark side of town.
Opening the door the silence is heavy. The room is dilapidated with the feel of decay. I call out, no answer. A false report. Time to meet up with my beer and TV.

As I approach the door, a sound. I turn to see something disappear down the hall that was musty and smells of death.
No one is here. My beer awaits. Movement, something brushes my neck. A sharp pain. Oblivion. Awakening a thirst, not for beer but a drink that is warm, sticky leaving me with a burning desire that races through my body. My anticipated weekend is now forgotten for eternal nights of hot blooded temptation.

[PaigeElizabethTurner]

The first para of my second crime novel: Whisper of Death.

Meredith Bennington reaches for the shrieking mobile. Knocks it to the floor. Pads her fingers across the bedside rug. Probes for the recently updated iPhone.

I write fiction, but am also working on a memoir / auto bio (haven't fully decided whether it will be a snapshot or the full shebang) that presently stands at 110,000 words. Sounds a lot, but if one can pratt on like I do, it's a piece of pi**.

Also venture into poetry, but not new-age poetry that even the poet can't understand. So I might write a few verses of hearts and flowers and then go back to killing characters: stabbings; cling wrap around the head; drownings; knifes; spiked drinks; okay, that's enough - you'll all think there's a very sad case just joined!!

[ChrisRosser]

First paragraph of the second scene from my book, Weaver of Dreams

They had ridden barely a mile, cutting through empty farmland. The road to Kas Mendoc lay before them. It wound through a shallow gully that had eroded over time with the passage of wind and water. Now the road resembled a stream, fed by rivulets of water running down the sides of the gully, flowing swiftly downhill.

I'll have to open up Scrivener to get my first line.

[gpc78]

The first line of my in-progress novel:
"Time to go, Audrey! Hurry up!"
Audrey stuffed her laptop into her night-bag and zipped it up.

[scottmarmorstein]

*Raises hand*

I'm an indie writer/self-pubbed author.

[Lonnb]

This is what my life has become - sitting in front of yet another inane television sitcom or overacted docudrama, it’s hard to tell the difference nowadays. I’m drinking an oversized glass of wine - enough to do more than dull the pain.

[Floss]

This is what my life has become - sitting in front of yet another inane television sitcom or overacted docudrama, it’s hard to tell the difference nowadays. I’m drinking an oversized glass of wine - enough to do more than dull the pain.

is that the opening of your wip or a cry for help
if the latter, may I humbly suggest using a normal sized glass and repouring from the bottle frequently. you,ll get just as medicated, but at least your step count will go up a little.

[NsKu]

I'm actually writing kinda two books at the same time first Devil's Game is almost ready and its sequel Deception Game is under away too so I'm going to put first lines from both.

Devil's Game starts:
Nicodemus Piper was bored, frustrated or anything what would describe almost not to be disappointed.

And sequel Deception Game starts:
Gasping for air he pushed himself thru narrow alley.

[richardoz]

I met someone at a party who said a friend was making quite good money writing erotica and selling it on Amazon. Well, I rushed home and stopped working on the great novel. Thirty-two days and 82,000 words later uploaded 'The FIFI CODE: A novel of love and lust for people who love people'. It was fun and writing quickly gave me new insights into how I could change my writing practices. Needless to say, I was probably the last one through the erotic genre door. To say it is overcrowded would be an understatement. The Kindle version has sold a dozen or so but very few paperbacks ordered so far although I'm ordering author copies and selling through a local bookshop quite well. Meanwhile, thanks to Scrivener, I'm back on the big work which I think will now benefit from my momentary affair with Fifi.

The first line of The FIFI CODE is:

Living at the Bennetts’ house was wonderful. Rosa and Albert Bennett were so friendly and loving, and the house, set in a beautiful garden, was filled with their stuff, accumulated over a long and happy life together.

Cheers