Dear Fellow Writers:
Let's try something different. In the comments section, WRITE the next sentence. It's only one sentence, so it better be good. The winning sentence will be inserted in the manuscript, which could end up (in)on an agent's/editor's iPad/Kindle/Nook/inbox/desk within the next year, which could end up in the hands of a publisher, which could end up on a bookshelf. Maybe. Hopefully. Eventually.
WIP - Sample Chapter:
SEVENTH GRADE
The robins and sparrows are in full bloom this morning, chattering and singing in high-pitched tones that make my neck hair stand up straight. It’s worse than when Mrs. Tingle used to scoot chairs across the tile floor to make space in the classroom for science experiments.
As I stroll toward the street corner to wait for the bus, Mom drives by and honks while blowing a kiss out the window.
“See you at school, honey,” she yells. A stream of smoke filters out the window and she drives away, missing tail light and all.
Everyone at the bus stop laughs, including Gabriela. She’s wearing a light red dress made of thin material. Her hair parts in the slight breeze, revealing her high cheeks and round eyes. Her legs are tan, like she’s been on vacation in Florida. Do they get darker in the summer and lighter in the winter?
“Your mom's a piece of work.”
It’s him. The Oger. He’s leaning against the stop sign. He spits and a brown streak splats on the pavement. He’s as tall as Dad was, but he’s 40 pounds overweight and uglier than an ostrich.
In second grade he dumped volcano spew on my desk and ruined my best eagle drawing of all time. In third grade he pulled my underwear over my head. In fourth grade he started calling me Fishboy, and so did everyone else. In fifth grade he locked me in the equipment room and I was stuck in there for two periods. Last year he… (complete this sentence)
Last year he told me he'd murder me in cold blood if I ever told anyone his deepest darkest secret, the one I discovered when I skipped Language Arts to hide in the bathroom after I peed my pants a little.
ReplyDeletesomehow stole one of my mom's thongs, stapled it onto an old file folder, and wrote "MC's Mom's skanky panties" under it. He then taped the folder onto my locker before school with duct tape. I didn't believe they were hers at first until I heard my mom wondering where her leopard thong was under her breath while doing laundry. There was no way I was going to tell her the truth.
ReplyDeleteLast year he snuck a pack of cigarettes into my locker and got me suspended for three days.
ReplyDeleteLast year he and I were paired together in gym class, and since I didn't want to get crushed to death, I just lay down on the mat and waited for him to pin me, but instead of doing that he squatted over my face like it was his at-home toilet and pushed out a fart that sounded like a beleaguered duck's quack.
ReplyDeleteP.S. Kelly's a cheater.
Last year he decided my lunch was going to be his lunch. After about two weeks of him taking my lunch, I made him a "special" sandwich. Let's say it looked like a brownie sandwich. He knocked the crap out of me after he took the first bite, but he hasn't bothered me since.
ReplyDeleteHi! This is porschia. I wanted to give the sentence a try. Here it is:
ReplyDeleteLast year he pushed me into Gabriela at a big school party while she was holding a glass of grape juice. The juice got all over her new dress and she started crying. That was the last time she ever talked to me.
All great entries. If Porschia's would fit sensibly into the manuscript, she would win, because she's like 12 and in my English class. So there, take that, adults! But her sentence doesn't work. The main character just met Gabriela the day before and could've never had such an encounter. Therefore, it's a close race between Kelly (hilarious) and Paul (disgusting).
ReplyDeleteBut I have to go with Kelly, because I'm trying to avoid the gross factor and any sort of fart jokes, only because they don't fall in line with the story. Congrats, Kelly. You're in.
And the Oger (a man-boy named Mouton) lives down the street from Eddie (MC) so he could've conceivably stolen Eddie's Mom's drawers. Nice work!
Hurray! Thanks, Tracy!
ReplyDeleteAnd why is PMM smack talkin me? I'm no cheater!
It was supposed to be one sentence. I can see that Tracy is a real stickler for the rules. Must be nice to be a student in his class, eh, Porschia?
ReplyDeleteI like rule-breakers, especially in contests. Right, Murph?
ReplyDeleteOMG, I did break a rule. I totally didn't realize it. My bad.
ReplyDeleteBut really...my good!
Revise it to make it your own, Tracy!
I'm wondering...is the word skanky even used anymore?
Oh, so it's too late to enter? Sad. Congrats Kelly!
ReplyDeleteI guess mine probably wouldn't have fit anyways, it was going to involve falling in love with a cadaver.
skanky is never outdated.
ReplyDelete