I trundled out to the patio at six, as usual, to water my plants. As I stood there with the hose running a hummingbird darted near, up, to the side. I stayed very still, only the water flowing from the hose, as the hummer jinked nearer and nearer, then suddenly zipped past my neck, its wings burring.
I backed up and it flitted high, then I saw that it was stalking a blasted skeet, which had been stalking ME. Up. Side, then snap! One dead mosquito.
Meanwhile, there is the question of imagining reader investment: of course I cannot trust my own judgment here. I am already invested. In a second book, how to reintroduce everyone plus keep the story moving?
Yesterday
janni was talking about incorporating what you've learned into your writing. Being an intuitive, not logical, person who is wired for visuals, not text, I realize that nothing I say makes much sense. But hey, I am reasonably certain that this kind of beginning requires small scenes with tiny emotional arcs--anything neutral kills potential tension. Otherwise one either has datadump boredom (and the narrative voice is too far in the background to pull the equivalent of a Paarfi) or else big action too soon, which is like walking into a movie in medias res with the volume way too high.
I think.