first line meme
Snurched from htbthomas
Post the first line from your 25 most recent fanfics and try to find a pattern.
"We'll next be setting down on Sihnon." Mal, despite his usual lack of an invitation, leaned against the bulkhead in the doorway of Inara's shuttle.
"We're gonna beat this bitch."
"Do you trust me, Slayer?"
Inara in red. That sort of thing had a way of turning Mal all manner of stupid.
It's the last place she'd seen him -- her Doctor -- and Rose couldn't bear to just drive away and leave it.
It's wrong. She knows it's wrong, but Spike's dead -- well, deader, actually, dust, gone, really dead -- and Anya's dead too, and she doesn't even know the names of some of the dead girls, and she'd rather blame the numbness on something other than her own cold apathy, something other than that slayer part of her that got the job done, and is glad, even if it cost lives.
Kennedy lived for that breathy sob Willow made when she flicked her tongue right there.
Kennedy led the way down the dark hallway, sword at the ready.
Daniel bent over the translation spread across his desk.
He had dreams about her.
Dr. Daniel Jackson braced himself for an icy blast of winter and stepped through the stargate.*
Jack O'Neill eyed the rickety cart dubiously.
Lieutenant Tom Paris listened to the Doc complain about Seven of Nine's recent holodating.
The doorbell rang, and Kyle Valenti dropped the box in his hands onto the bed.
"Mulder, my date is not an alien."
Moving bodies brought the dance floor to life as they followed the beat of a rather good band.
Jack had no idea how long it had been.
The day started out on an increasingly familiar bad note for Major Samantha Carter when, once again, her boyfriend presented her with an incorrectly prepared cup of coffee.
Kyle Valenti looked down at the woman asleep in his lap, her tear-streaked face illuminated in brief flashes as the van moved down the highway.
So many realizations in Samantha Carter's life arrived in blinding flashes of insight -- usually with lives at stake; often her own life; even more often the lives of the people close to her -- that it therefore made perfect sense that falling in love would fit the same pattern.
Sam went home first.
She watched her blood drip down onto the Seal of Danzalthar.
The kiss lived in her memory, cavorting through her dreams.
The knowledge barreled into her and drove the air from her lungs.
The Turok-Han was dust in the wind.
My conclusion is that I have some weak-ass first lines in the mix here, particularly in comment-fics from various prompt free-for-all thingies. Dialogue is a good option in those cases. I'll try to remember that.
ETA: Those first lines rewritten/tweaked after the fic was finished have now been bolded, per htbthomas's request.
*This one's actually clever in the way it fits with the second and third lines: Dr. Daniel Jackson braced himself for an icy blast of winter and stepped through the stargate. He froze. Balmy weather, green grass, smiling natives -- this was definitely not P4X-322.
Post the first line from your 25 most recent fanfics and try to find a pattern.
"We'll next be setting down on Sihnon." Mal, despite his usual lack of an invitation, leaned against the bulkhead in the doorway of Inara's shuttle.
"We're gonna beat this bitch."
"Do you trust me, Slayer?"
Inara in red. That sort of thing had a way of turning Mal all manner of stupid.
It's the last place she'd seen him -- her Doctor -- and Rose couldn't bear to just drive away and leave it.
It's wrong. She knows it's wrong, but Spike's dead -- well, deader, actually, dust, gone, really dead -- and Anya's dead too, and she doesn't even know the names of some of the dead girls, and she'd rather blame the numbness on something other than her own cold apathy, something other than that slayer part of her that got the job done, and is glad, even if it cost lives.
Kennedy lived for that breathy sob Willow made when she flicked her tongue right there.
Kennedy led the way down the dark hallway, sword at the ready.
Daniel bent over the translation spread across his desk.
He had dreams about her.
Dr. Daniel Jackson braced himself for an icy blast of winter and stepped through the stargate.*
Jack O'Neill eyed the rickety cart dubiously.
Lieutenant Tom Paris listened to the Doc complain about Seven of Nine's recent holodating.
The doorbell rang, and Kyle Valenti dropped the box in his hands onto the bed.
"Mulder, my date is not an alien."
Moving bodies brought the dance floor to life as they followed the beat of a rather good band.
Jack had no idea how long it had been.
The day started out on an increasingly familiar bad note for Major Samantha Carter when, once again, her boyfriend presented her with an incorrectly prepared cup of coffee.
Kyle Valenti looked down at the woman asleep in his lap, her tear-streaked face illuminated in brief flashes as the van moved down the highway.
So many realizations in Samantha Carter's life arrived in blinding flashes of insight -- usually with lives at stake; often her own life; even more often the lives of the people close to her -- that it therefore made perfect sense that falling in love would fit the same pattern.
Sam went home first.
She watched her blood drip down onto the Seal of Danzalthar.
The kiss lived in her memory, cavorting through her dreams.
The knowledge barreled into her and drove the air from her lungs.
The Turok-Han was dust in the wind.
My conclusion is that I have some weak-ass first lines in the mix here, particularly in comment-fics from various prompt free-for-all thingies. Dialogue is a good option in those cases. I'll try to remember that.
ETA: Those first lines rewritten/tweaked after the fic was finished have now been bolded, per htbthomas's request.
*This one's actually clever in the way it fits with the second and third lines: Dr. Daniel Jackson braced himself for an icy blast of winter and stepped through the stargate. He froze. Balmy weather, green grass, smiling natives -- this was definitely not P4X-322.