Seven Lines

[Juliana]

Some of us have been sharing this on Facebook, and I thought it would be fun to post it here, as I've thoroughly enjoyed reading the responses.

Go to page 7 of your current work in progress. Go to line 7 of that page. Post the next 7 lines. That's it. Go.

(Edited to add: seven lines in your MS might show up as more or less lines on Chrons formatting)

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“The media is just not going to rest until they’ve had a piece of you. The three of you show up, take a few photographs, appear on a few live streams all sad and beautiful – I’m looking at you, Sarah – and then you can just sit back and let it all fade away.”

Meryn saw the look on Liv’s face and hastily amended, “Fade away until he shows up again, of course.” She patted Liv’s knee, awkwardly. “I’m sure they’ll find him, hon.”

So that was the plan. And like it or not, two days later Liv found herself in a plush first-class seat en route to Heathrow airport, London, England.

 

[Rafellin]

found unless they want to be.

Grish is probably the apex of created sentience. They had found
each other when the explosion that nearly killed her cracked the
volcanic rock he’d been entombed in, as the boulder it had become
crashed down beside her. Neither of them dared to guess at how long
he’d been in there.

When he became trapped, rather than succumb to Cyclic - a malaise

 

[AnyaKimlin]

Jane smiled slightly. “Unless like Cece you have someone well connected you should prepare yourself for a long and difficult period. Last time I spent a month in Holloway. The government do not like it when we attack them. Mrs Pankhurst is right when we attack their property men get mad.” She sighed. “I'd say they would be less upset if we kidnapped their wives and daughters, but they consider them property.”

I studied the stone floor. Papa had some funny ideas at times and he could be distant, but he never made me feel like his property.

 

[HareBrain]

away time to overwhelm her. But she didn’t want Cass to leave either. All the time on Aurora, she’d barely seen her, and never alone.

‘I couldn’t do a proper scape at sea. The boat moved too much, and the engine was too noisy. I sensed him, I think, but that’s all. So I just tried to … strengthen him. What there was of him. I sang to him sometimes.’

‘As a mother would.’

Hana checked Cass’s expression, but found no sign of sarcasm. ‘I suppose some of that stuck with

 

[Jo Zebedee]

This from the newest baby:

“That was amazing.” Annie was as pink with excitement as I’d have been at nine. Hey, even at fifteen, it was hard not to be impressed.

“We have a few tame ones,” said Joe, the ranger who’d been leading us on the squirrel trail. He gave a quirked smile, and I managed one back without blushing. Trust me to get the cute ranger, all blonde hair curling on his collar, instead of the old guy who’d sold us the tickets. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of nuts. “Can’t think why.”

 

[Susan Boulton]

The two men stood in a funk hole with their backs against the sodden Flanders clay. Their rough shelter was cut into the side of a trench between the mud-cemented, rotting remains of a Yorkshireman, long considered just part of the scenery, and a rusting sheet of corrugated steel. An oilcloth pegged into position above their heads with bayonets acted as both roof and door.

 

[Brian G Turner]

“Er, blessings, too. I’m Sirath.” He hissed a curse for giving out his name. Gutter Jack probably wouldn’t follow this far out from Canalecht, but with the merchant somewhere behind, it was still a careless mistake. Sirath took a cautious step closer. He tried to casually lounge against a boulder. It was sharp against his back, but he didn’t dare move.

 

[Kerrybuchanan]

Did the one on Facebook, so this is from a different WIP. From a short story I'm about half way through writing, rough first draft:

If he was prepared to listen to her now, despite what he thought she had done, then they might have a chance - but he wasn't going to like what she had to tell him. She took a deep breath.

"Sire," she said. "One of your inner council is betraying you."

The king turned and walked back to the table, throwing himself down in a padded chair and drawing Princess Thalia onto his knee. In the mirror behind him Laenia's reflection stared back at her: all eyes and cheekbones, skin dried by the sun, hair dull. Life hadn't been easy for her in the three years since she'd left, with half his army in pursuit.

 

[Toby Frost]

“That’s fine, Master Zingre. I’m just going down to meet the mule train.”
He had drawn back a little. “Of course. I thought you were one of the kitchen lads. I apologise. It’s your coat,” he added.
“Oh, yes. I’m on duty today. I have to wear it, in case I get called out.”
“I see.” They paused a moment, neither knowing who was superior, and then Salli said, “Well, see you about!” and she hurried on her way.
He called after her to be careful on the stairs, but she ignored that.

 

[chrispenycate]

As newlyweds we would have to sleep together but, since getting me into any bedroom was considered impractical (read "impossible") we had the barroom of the "Groaning Ass" as our nuptial chamber. According to Menuil the raucous suggestions yelled at us as we retired for the night were no worse, indeed, very little different from those given to any other couple in similar circumstances.


We left early the next morning while most of the inhabitants were still sleeping off their previous night's excesses. Walking, of course; I hadn't flown for years, and never with a passenger, and even with the magic it would take some practice before it became natural again. Besides, I was a beast of burden , slung about with with saddlebags and tent, provisions and gold. In the grey predawn grey light we said farewell to a farmer and his dog, and took the winding, uphill road towards Angria.

 

[Teresa Edgerton]

In that room of sharp-eared auditors not one word carried. Not even Ruan, so close that he could hear the beating wings of a butterfly hovering over his mother’s head, could make out what she was saying. No Human would have known she was even speaking. It was the Shira-dis, that nearly silent form of communication slighter than a whisper, requiring a perfect control of the breath that only the Ni-Féa could master.

When Alisindë moved aside, the Queen’s smile flashed out, and that was an

 

[Perpetual Man]

the local bakery and buy three cakes, a donut for mum, a piece of rich chocolate cake for himself and a big cream bun for her. Having finished the lunch they would then eat the cakes; it was something that she had looked forward to more than anything else. A simple meal but by far the best one of the week.

The conversation with the meal was always fun. Dad would often ask her what she was reading at the moment and actually seem to take an interest in her and what she was into.

 

[ratsy]

Here is an excerpt from something I finished not long ago. I will do the same cut and past like the couple above examples!


but the message kept booming out of the speaker. Jane knew it was a repeated recording. A light shone through the cabin's broken windows and Jane's heart pumped so hard she thought it might explode. Her whole body shook and never had she struggled to breathe so quietly. Her lungs pushed the air in and out frantically.

Kelly's hand gripped hers; he seemed utterly calm. “Stay here. I will go around and try to distract them.”

Before Jane could reply he'd sneaked out one of the rear windows. She could hear

 

[Juliana]

<just wanted to say I've really enjoyed reading all the excerpts individually, as well as the way they read all together. Rather like that game where one person draws the head, then folds the paper over, the next draws the neck, etc and at the end there's a fabulous creature-thing? That game. Thanks for taking part, it's been fun!>

 

[Void]

It's so intriguing reading all these snippets! Here's mine from my (terribly unpolished) first draft:

...single trace.
The world stops being numbers and I feel the distinctly organic sensation of squishy confusion. There’s chaos as the universal right of maths recedes and becomes subservient to messy qualia again. Loss and awareness come in pairs as they always do when I come back. Then I am simply sitting in the bay again, the hard, grey bed pressing into the small of my back. I’m still in their prison, but I am no longer a prisoner.

 

[Victoria Silverwolf]

“And everywhere he goes he steals the women who are most gifted at casting spells,” Seller said. He paused for a moment and wondered how much he should reveal about his own motives. He trusted his friends, but knew that some things were stronger than loyalty. He also wondered if Thanos were listening. Fanan had been unable to cast the Silence, or work any other magic, for all the time they had been together. She needed to preserve her power for a much more important spell. “My own reasons for wishing to see Thanos defeated are not as strong as yours, perhaps. Skilled woman have been taken from England, but I have neither witnessed it, nor lost someone I cared for.”

 

[Darkchrome]

This is a great idea - reading excerpts out of context makes it really interesting! My contribution, lifted from the 'Yay, it's finished!' - cue crippling self-doubt - 'No, it needs a total rewrite' novel:

...final invitation to Amsterdam. “Convalescence,” he’d said. I’d declined, adding that one of his weekends would probably see me back in hospital.

I thought I was used to the colour thing but it’s still a shock to see the flat. Everything from the deep blue sofa to the lilac walls is grey, even the purple and cerise lava lamp is now seal-coloured globules suspended in a column of North Sea. The atmosphere feels empty, the effervescence of living dispersed, its bubbles absorbed into the furniture. It's like I’m returning from a long holiday but without the cheap sunhat or happy memories.