ITT: Try and write the best opening sentence to a novel you can. Most interesting one wins

Everyone remembers the day a man feel from the sky.

Glurguh, the massive blob of fat sounds something unintelligible about its fuckslit.

Times were great, but also they sucked shit.

Would read

You're welcome.

The manlet stood there--frozen--like a garden gnome on a cold winter's day.

-Marmaduke was never a great comic. But it was certainly better than Calvin & Hobbes! You never see Marmaduke pissing on titans of American industry. Like all good dogs, he goes, presumably, on the lawn. How many times have I had to explain this to you?
Terry could see he was getting no where fast with Goodwin.

I had stopped imagining for an instant... Sniffed the air inquisitively... rolled by wrist critically to view my cheap plastic watch... and with some pride and assurance reclined on my special chair and allowed my eyes to roll smoothly in opposite directions.

It was a dark and gloomy night.

that last bit is very asian horror vibey

Alone he wandered and alone he stood, baffled by the neverending silence before him. the hurt he felt was mind numbing, he longed without even knowing himself capable. So he created, and all was light.

Pretty good.

you say that only because it confused you

When I was born there were three white clouds waiting in the calm, spring air like simple characters from a storybook.

That was my plan all along!

"I love you for you who are," she declared.

You confuse me too, but I wouldn't call you pretty or good.

I suppose this truly began when an anthropomorphic rodent first discovered the joys of sweet orange flesh, and discovered as well the wretched depths of gluttonous excess to which those joys could drive him.

This is a bretty good opening line desu

Who--and where--have I?

black death?

>"I love you for you who are," she declared without conviction.

Ftfy

...

Nah senpai. That kind of fiction isn't my cup of tea.

I breath deeply, rust and dirt filling my lungs, the air contaminated by the stench of the blackest of the horsemen. All has perished around me, yet such sweet everlasting peace still escapes from me.

The world is all that is the case.

Gram Gram was the best, she was the one who taught me...it is better to be truthful and good...than to not; I had to put her down last week.

As Charles the second of Spain, king of Naples, Sicily,Sardinia the duke of Milan, Sovereign of the lowlands and Count of Burgundy feasted on small chocolate sweets and read the letter from munich time and time again trying to make sense of it, Alvarez de Toledo, his valid, couldnt help but laugh at his situation. The heir to the SPanish monarchy was dead, the great powers of europe were probably discussing how to dissect the kingdom, in the court of Madrid only spies and fools remained and his king, his emperor was quietly but surely with a solemn look on his face, browning his pants

"What a shame. Ah, I'll wait," he proclaimed indignantly; you see, there had to be one of us- one of us among hundreds of accelerated students to say something he desired to hear- to say something interesting about the text...

to put the fat old fool in his place.

I tossed the stick over the sea; it brought the stick back like an obedient dog.

Everywhere he went women sighed, and every time he spoke words could die.

Frost; to bitter silence.

A line with certain potential that's wasted for a pointless (I assume?) rhyme

Only one pancake remained; two if you counted God.

When he woke up....

(Read on for cliff hanger xD)

He had
....

A surprise :0

Potential winner here.

A year to the day after his father's death, Paul Wagner sat alone in foggy mid-morning, waiting for the train that would take him to Waukegan and his sister.

Would read on

honestly lold

>split infinitive

The thing he hated about being alone was not that there was nobody else with him but rather that he was just with himself.

worse than pickle Rick.

Good imagination. but no need for a comma after calm.

There was one enemy left; 1.8 billion if you count muslims.

love doesn't declare, doesn't issue edicts & proclamations like that

Dear Diary,
Two retired army officials and a sexy beast brawled today
The whole stadium laughed an earthquake- people clutching their sides and falling over their seats
I just couldn't believe my eyes when the beast won

I shaved off every last bit of hair of my body, I lathered myself in oils and lubricants and anything else that sounded, looked or smelled familiar. I needed that edge and nothing more. I knew there was no possible way I could lose, and I was certain they knew it too. Before the bite, mind you. Before the hair. Before the fur.

to move man with words you must love him

I want to read more already

Down an alley: a man.

>Snow-Balls have flown their Arcs, starr'd the Sides of Outbuildings, as of Cousins, carried Hats away into the brisk Wind off Delaware,-- the Sleds are brought in and their Runners carefully dried and greased, shoes deposited in the back Hall, a stocking'd-foot Descent made upon the great Kitchen, in a purposeful Dither since Morning, punctuated by the ringing Lids of Boilers and Stewing-Pots, fragrant with Pie-Spices, peel'd Fruits, Suet, heated Sugar,-- the Children, having all upon the Fly, among rhythmic slaps of Batter and Spoon, coax'd and stolen what they might, proceed, as upon each afternoon all this snowy December, to a comfortable Room at the rear of the House, years since given over to their carefree Assaults.

Not too sure where to go from here though

Into the trash: this manuscript

That old busted jukebox used to play real good, my pappy says, real sweet and smooth enough to make you tap your toe and wish the women were still around.

As of now he was finally enlightened.

clever, the "real sweet and smooth" part threatens that, though. I understand that it's a decent enough expression, but you really don't want to send something as overused as that your publisher as the opening line.

"What a beautiful day," I emptily say to myself as I gaze out my window, knowing damn well that I'll be spending this beautiful day -- like most others -- alone in my room reading books and shitposting on my favorite anime fansite.

I really do like that, honestly try expanding upon this idea a bit more

As Damon stared at the burning house in front of him, can of gasoline in one hand and empty beer bottle in the other, he tried to pinpoint the exact moment where his life turned to shit.

Just toss in a :^) somewhere in there

THIS SUMMER

There was nothing confusing about that paragraph

It wasn't even v good

I want to scream at you through this paper, you miserable pathetic slob.

I looked over to the bookshelf, I knew I was smart but it still impressed me to see such an immense collection.

My mom stood at the door. "Traps aren't gay!" I shouted in agony, but it was too late. My new life had begun.

My seed spilled forth in unending waves as I cried. As much as I knew it was best for me to move from that place, I had become a slave to pleasure in those bygone days of yesteryear, and so there I stood. After an hour, my penis had shriveled to that of a prune, and my eyes were red and dry from constant weeping, the wailing of my voice (that of both sorrow and unending ecstasy) had become horse. I tried my best

I dont understand what you are saying.
English is not my native tongue, are you pointing out some mistake?

In place of the usual player of tendies, Mumum's tray held many strange implements that night, things I had only seen depicted in the autistically-precise linework of japanese comic books. I gazed up at her nervously. The smile of her red lips did not reassure me.

Childhood is a time for impossible things.

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.

Bright lights, and some howl in the night, and it seems to come from the bottom of the well.

He pondered the question of the materialist nature of reality as he looked down, inanely hoping the shortbread would whisper some answer.

Dorian had slept with a lot of women - but none were quite like his sister.

There was movement at the station, for the word had passed around,
That the cunt from Old Regret had got away.

Niiiice

Finally, that long awaited rainy day.

(Not sure if this is my best but this seemed like a fun exercise to try.)

Hezekiah awoke to a pounding headache, or maybe it was that person knocking frantically at the door, he went to the bathroom and found the hooker from last night slumped dead over the side of the bath, this was Rumspringa.

"Some asshole on the internet wanted me to do the work for him," I said flatly as my wife floated in from the kitchen, drunk off her ass as usual. Was it a man, she'd asked in that Chardonnay-fueled SoCal slur of hers. I should have stuck to roughing traps on the circuit instead of pretending I could be a married man, respectable. When was the last time I'd written anything? A fat manuscript on my desk, begging for a chance to make the rounds of rejection of America's publication whorehouses. Instead I'd probably write something for this useless cunt and jerk off angrily later that evening while my wife was passed out nearby. It'd be the closest thing to a rush I'd ever feel these days. "Shut the fuck up."

>wanted a sentence
>got a paragraph
you're lucky i hate myself more than i hate you OP

where?

Now that I got your attention with this half-assed line about nothing, wasting your and my time, let me assure you, that it'll only get worse from here on.

>Tfw not manly enough to have SoCal lush wife like my mom
>Tfw not girly enough to be roughed by frustrated married writers
>Tfw just androgynous enough to die alone

Btw this is the opening to my Nov, it's entirely greentext

Marduk's cigar smoke covered face contorted with a tremendous cackle at the sight of seeing his long time rival and brother bloodied, bound, gagged, and piss-soaked in the proverbially casket that was cramped trunk of shroud colored Cadillac.

His need for artistic acknowledgement was nothing more than the feed for an attentive listening mother, assuring him he was on the right path. He realised this, and reductive generalisations had claimed another victim

you have my attention
you too

I awoke one morning to find I had become a little girl.

1 shoe 2 shoe sale never worn of baby

see

A mouth surfaced by minty toothpaste and a cold orange class... Only minutes before dad would start the car.
Instant regret.

A couple hundred people stood by the courthouse that day to watch Big Sylvester whip 'em, and it was only my being a dumb kid with no idea about the future or the winds of politics that kept me from standing with 'em.

A veritable alpine idyll, the Christmas party had gone swimmingly until Uncle Billy waggled his ass towards the fireplace and loudly broke wind. The fart caught fire and suddenly his pants were alight and then his sweater. He ran about wildly then sank to his knees, in flames, screaming, waving his arms at the ceiling like a preacher begging a miracle while the children backed away and Momma hurried for the water bucket. But she was too late to save Billy. She had always been too late. And now he was dead.