One of our assignments for creative writing was to go through all of our past writing and find some of our favorite lines. So I went back to the older pieces on my blog, previous to this class, and picked more than I needed. I figured it would be fun to share them here as well. Most of them are from my older, WoW fan fiction, because I reread through all the short stories that have made it to their own pages on the blog. This exercise made me realize how behind I am with making my short stories into their own pages.
I might have to go through again at some point, and pull lines from some of my newer pieces.
Along with lines from our own work, our next task was to share our favorite first lines from other books or stories. I chose my three favorite books, which all happen to be part of a series, but they were introductions to my favorite series.
Favorite Lines From My Stories
The night creatures awoke and made their noises, forming a symphony that surrounded her like the arms of the forest itself.
He felt the warmth of the Firebird inside his breast and from there forward, even during the storm and the dead of night, Heraqawa always felt the sun upon his face.
The elements cried today. They cried for the return to the Earth of their companion and voice.
This was when she most felt alive, with the ebb and flow of life and death all around her, it speaking to her in ways other than with words.
The evil that emanated from the place was palpable and hit one not unlike a stale wind from deep underground, one that reeks of death and rot.
Lupine features once more formed a savage grin, his fangs glistening in the poor light of the empty street, most of the gaslights shattered or burnt out.
The enemy of my enemy is my friend… or at least a tolerated employer.
The morning sun was shining gloriously somewhere.
Tiny Dreamer (this story was updated about a year ago from its original version):
The light was new and signified somewhere unknown, and that made it both fascinating and frightening.
Favorite First Lines
The Crystal Shard, by R.A. Salvatore:
The demon sat back on the seat it had carved in the stem of a giant mushroom. Sludge slurped and rolled around the rock island, the eternal oozing and shifting that marked this layer of the Abyss.
Ender’s Game, by Orson Scott Card:
“I’ve watched through his eyes, I’ve listened through his ears, and I tell you he’s the one. Or at least as close as we’re going to get.”
The Gunslinger, by Stephen King:
The man in Black fled across the Desert, and the Gunslinger followed.”