I must first start off with an apology. I was supposed to participate in Livia's Alternate Version Blogfest yesterday, but for reasons I didn't anticipate or plan for, I wasn't able to make that happen. I thought about finishing what I had been working on and posting it today, until I remembered Kelly's First Page Blogfest. I've decided to admit defeat and just post my entry for the First Page Blogfest (which just so happens to be already completed) and apologize to Livia for missing her creative event, as well as anyone who stopped in to see what I had to offer. Sorry guys!
Below I present to you the first page of my novel FALLEN KNIGHT. It belongs squarely in the mystery/suspense section of your local bookstore, and someday I hope to see it there. Honest opinions only! :)
Today was the day; he could just feel it.
Brady Jones told himself the same thing every morning. Deep down, he knew that it was simply lip service, a way of puffing up his confidence and reminding him that on any given day, his life could change for the better. He felt like one of those people who bought lottery tickets every week, always looking forward to the possibilities. Like them, he never wasted time worrying about the countless days when his prediction had turned out to be false, preferring to remain hopeful. After all, the change he hoped for didn’t have to be anything earth shattering; nowadays, his expectations were low.
This morning was different, though; he actually believed his pep talk. He sensed confidence surging through him. It was already May, and the end of the school year was just a few weeks away. That meant he was running short on time, and he always performed better when he had a deadline. His daily horoscope on Facebook that morning had read, “Some recent quandaries regarding romance look set to develop today. Someone new and exciting will fire you up.” Most important, his complexion was the clearest it had been in weeks, and his wild black hair was actually cooperating this morning. He resisted the temptation to check his reflection in the sun visor’s mirror.
He glanced over at his mom behind the wheel of their rickety 1997 Dodge pickup. Feeling unusually self-confident, he asked, “Mom, when can I get my license?”
His mom looked back at him, ignoring the road for so long that Brady felt uncomfortable. He noticed that the right side of her face, which had started swelling a few days earlier, was worse today. Her tooth was giving her problems, but they lacked the money to have a dentist look at it.
Turning her attention back to the traffic ahead, she answered, “Honey, we talked about this.” Her hands twisted nervously on the steering wheel, signaling to Brady that the conversation was turning serious. He wondered if she knew what an open book she was to him. “We can’t apply for a driver’s license under your real name, and I’m afraid to do it under Brady Jones until I can afford to buy some better documents. And even if I could pay for that, I can’t afford to buy you a car.”
- Continually trying to answer the question...can a man of few words write a successful novel?
I'm a Mystery/Thriller/Suspense writer from small town USA who struggles everyday to balance my passion for prose against the need to be a full-time bread winner. Finding ways to devote more time to my writing is the challenge, but for now all I can do is follow this tug at my heart to wherever it leads. I'm here primarily to soak up all the knowledge I can from the writing-centric blogosphere, but I'll do my best to contribute by thinking of new and innovative ways to churn the writing pot.