Unutterably Silly Memorable FIRST SENTENCES - Only Yours, please

[Dr. Drib]

The Holiday Boys -- those eighteen-year-old chums who had braved so much together, experiencing adventures that Boys their age very rarely experienced, like the time they battled the evil genius of Dr. Demo and his computer program that refused to operate after one month of having been downloaded; or the time they both fought the ‘Battle Of The Bulge’ after having eaten too much ice-cream and cake which caused them untold amounts of gastric distress; or the time they got lost while driving and unaccountably found themselves parked in Lover’s Lane; or the time they put Mrs. Harper’s cat Puffin in the microwave and accidentally forgot to set the timer to stop in one minute; or the time they went to the movies but weren’t paying attention to the marquee and found themselves instead in a porno theater, where they spotted Mr. Harper sitting alone and with his hat pulled low over his face -- smiled at each other as they ate their Wheaties, both knowing that today, Saturday, would be the start of yet another adventure for the Boys.


Don

[Steven Lyle Jordan]

(This thread reminds me so much of the old Doc Savage novels, and their penchant for openings designed to grab you right off the bat. They weren't elaborate single sentences, mind you, but elaborate groups of sentences. The "grab" usually didn't take more than 3-4 sentences, or maybe 2 or 3 paragraphs.

As in:

Lester Davey, Jr, was actually the first to see the blue octopus. But at the time, he didn't think twice about it.

That was because, at the time he saw the blue octopus, Lester was "three sheets to the wind," as the saying goes... that is, drunk on a cheap bottle of muscatelle. As this was not the first time Lester had been drunk, he was used to seeing things that he knew--at the very least, by the next morning--couldn't really exist. So, when he saw the blue octopus, he was able to dismiss it as a vestige of his inebriated state, and stumble on.

This was why Lester Davey, Jr, was the only one to survive seeing the blue octopus that night.

Gotta love openings like that!)

(PS: I made this one up, don't go looking for it!)

[montsnmags]

Originally Posted by Steve Jordan

...
Gotta love openings like that!)
...

As a quick aside, against Dr. Drib's intentions, the following are my favourite first sentences to any book, ever (or, at least, thus far):


"We were somewhere around Barstow on the edge of the desert when the drugs began to take hold. I remember saying something like, "I feel a bit lightheaded; maybe you should drive . . ."And suddenly there was a terrible roar all around us and the sky was full of what looked like huge bats, all swooping and screeching and diving around the car, which was going about 100 miles an hour with the top down to Las Vegas. And a voice was screaming: "Holy Jesus! What are these goddamn animals?"

Then it was quiet again. My attorney had taken his shirt off and was pouring beer on his chest, to facilitate the tanning process. "What the hell are you yelling about," he muttered, staring up at the sun with his eyes closed and covered with wraparound Spanish sunglasses. "Never mind," I said. "It's your turn to drive." I hit the brakes and aimed the Great Red Shark toward the shoulder of the highway. No point mentioning those bats, I thought. The poor bastard will see them soon enough."

(Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, Hunter S. Thompson)


Why his prose feels to me so much like poetry, I don't know, but, good gods (and very, very bad ones too), I love that man's writing.

Cheers,
Marc

[Nate the great]

I would like to nominate Hunter S. Thompson as the patron saint of the MobileRead Llounge.

[GeoffC]

There is really no accounting for good taste, or bad - for that matter.....

[LazyScot]

"I accuse the llama, in the library with the chocolate, " said the old lady in the Miss Marple costume, reaching across and picking up the poisoned black envelope before falling dead over the Clue(do) board.

[zelda_pinwheel]

Originally Posted by Nate the great

I would like to nominate Hunter S. Thompson as the patron saint of the MobileRead Llounge.

well, i'm not sure whether he would have been honoured or not, but he *should* be.

[ShortNCuddlyAm]

Originally Posted by zelda_pinwheel

well, i'm not sure whether he would have been honoured or not, but he *should* be.

Honoured, the patron saint, or both?


(Personally, I'm voting for both)

[zelda_pinwheel]

Originally Posted by ShortNCuddlyAm

Honoured, the patron saint, or both?


(Personally, I'm voting for both)

yes, both, of course.

[Steven Lyle Jordan]

I would never be the same after I'd finally heard the words: "I Barack Hussein Obama..."

[GeoffC]

....And now, a new beginning.

[Dr. Drib]

Their 17 pimples an inflamed, angry red, the 5 eighteen-year-old teenagers – Jimmy, Tommy, Sammy, Billy, and Timmy (and their half-blind dog named Bob, a smelly Doberman with a heavy flea infestation problem) – sat in a circle in their Secret Hideaway club house, dubbed ‘The Intergalactic Reading Room,’ and read Snow Crash, a Neal Stephenson novel, exclaiming all the while with such phrases as, “Golly, this writer sure is good, huh Timmy?” and Timmy said, “I thought the novel had too much history and stuff in it, but when it didn’t it just really sang to me,” and then three of the five boys looked up from their books and exclaimed together: “I thought the cybernetic dog was pretty cool, and those nuclear powerd gatling guns, too – WOW!” and that made them all laugh, which caused Billy to say, “I really live to read his books; everything else is just trash,” and then Timmy too looked up from his reading and asked: “Hey, anyone getting hungry?” and Billy said, “Yeah, let’s go get a pizza,” whereupon the 5 eighteen-year-old teenagers – Jimmy, Tommy, Sammy, Billy, and Timmy – all got up in unison and scratched their various pimples; but Bob, their half-blind dog, remained behind and then let go a very smelly fart, which caused the boys to whoop with exaggerated glee as they hastily climbed down from their improvised Secret Hideaway club house.


Don

[Steven Lyle Jordan]

In the winter of 2020... it was over ninety in Harlem, which was the kind of thing that concerned me, vis-a-vis the world's welfare and all, but which didn't seem to bother the kids who struggled to open a fire hydrant that they should know had no water in it anyway.

[Dr. Drib]

He had the kind of rotundity of face that one finds in a Mr. Potato Head and a wide-open smile that seemed to contain the entire world and all its brazen ways; and I knew that he was mine for all eternity and, like Momma, he could never leave me…he would never be able to leave me.


Don

[Dr. Drib]

That morning, as each Holiday Boy got up from his respective bed (it was an absolutely cold morning, so cold it felt like a knife had been shoved down one's throat), the two Chums found to their amusement that the electricity was off due to the snowstorm that had blown in from the east; and, as they scampered and capered across the cold wood floor, their breath vapory and thin, they got confused and put on the other Chum’s underwear by mistake, which they found hilariously funny as they made their way through the dark hallway and then downstairs, only to remember that the electricity was still off as they eyed the dark face of the Microwave, realizing in the process that Mrs. Hardy’s five obnoxiously purring cats would be safe for yet one more day.


Don