I would set up a sentence challenge. I would choose a novel— not a writing book or a book about thinking—and find a sentence. I’d take that sentence out of context and see what I could make of it.
In seconds, I was out of my chair and at the bookshelf looking for a likely suspect. I grabbed “The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time,” by Mark Haddon. I figured that would offer a sentence of the right degree. I opened the book randomly, and the following amazing sentence was staring up at me.
I can’t write the sentence.
I can’t write the sentence, because . . . when I turned over the book to make sure I got the title right, I lost my place and lost the sentence. It doesn’t say much for my memory. I need to start getting more sleep.
So I had to go fishing in the book to find a new sentence. But the book was so good I started reading. . . . I have an addiction to reading, especially reading books that are fresh and filled with curious and interesting things.
Finally, I took hold of myself. With a deep breath and with all of my faculties screaming the word STOP. I closed the book. Then I randomly opened book again. I chose the first sentence at the top of a left hand-page. If you have the book, you can check it. It’s the first sentence of Chapter 179.
I hated this “do over,” but I had no option. I took a moment and gave myself a dispensation. The following sentence was what I found.
I stayed awake until 3:47.
Now that’s eerie. You see I had also just been planning a nap around 4:00. It began to feel a lot like an omen. The time was 3:21, by the time I posted this it would be 3:37.
I’d better go for now. . . then the challenge will begin.
—me strauss Letting me be
6 comments:
Of course you've heard of bibliomancy, Liz. Very interesting, what's going on with you today. Hmmm...
Why not mix it up a bit and ask your faithful readers to provide you with a sentence from one of their books?
Or maybe we could do that thing -- what's it called, darn it? -- that thing where a bunch of people collaborate on a story, one sentence at a time? That might be fun.
Okay. Pushy woman that I am, I've grabbed a random sentence for you from a novel I loved. If you don't want to run with it, at least see if you can identify the author. Double-deluxe bonus points if you can guess the novel, too. Here goes:
Soap, too, had built its own head of steam, and candles profited from the memory of recent desperation.
Nothing obtuse about that. Trust me; it could have been worse.
Happy weekend, Liz!
Zilla,
I should have known you would take up the challenge for me. Now there' a challenge that could just over take me!
I'd be happy to do the one-sentence story. Where I come from we did it two words at a time. But I've seen such things fail miserably on blogs around here, so we'd have to make sure everyone really wanted to do it.
smiles,
Liz
Why not take a sentence from Atlanta Nights?
LOL
P.S. I glad you liked the "Saving lives with poetry" entry over in my neck of cyberspace.
That exchange was special. At least, I think so...and I am ever so pleased that you see the beauty of it too.
Kel Bell
Hi Kel,
I guess I have my work cut out for me. I'm going with the sentence I've got. Now I've got two more to do.
You guys are merciless. I think I need to hide for a day or two.
Yeah. I like that poet post a great deal. She's a special one.
smiles,
Liz
Haha Touche.
Have you not read the book?
I found myself upset that the undercurrent had no twists - once I started reading the unwritten story I wanted more to happen for the parents. I don't think the excellent autistic perspective of the words on the page forgive the predictability of the rest.
But I waffle.
Oh yes, Cheryl,
I did read the book. My friend from the UK--the Conversations and Cognac guy--sent it to me because it made him think of me.
I loved it, but I too wished the parents had more happen to them.
I told my fiend that I never had a problem with my food touching, but I was considering numbering the chapters in my novel with only prime numbers. (grin>
smiles,
Liz
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