During the holidays, I gave some thought to the state of my various writing projects and aspirations, and decided to make a few changes.
- The content here at kevinbroom.com will be shifting. I’ve done mostly Wizards analysis here, but that will be ending. Instead, I’ll be more focused on writing, the writing life, and artistic expression. These topics occupy a bigger place in my mind than sports ever has, and I hope readers find my thoughts interesting.
- My Wizards content is moving it to Bullets Forever, which has long been a source of terrific Wizards coverage and analysis. I’m thrilled they were willing to add me to the chorus, and looking forward to being part of the team.
- I’m going to partner with my friend Ben Becker to attempt a Wizards podcast that will be distributed through Bullets Forever. We’re gearing up to begin production, and hope to have our first edition available in January.
That’s all for now.
I’m working on the final revision to my mystery novel, which will be available for purchase in about a month. This is supposed to more of a proofread — just double-checking for typos, misspellings, wrong words, etc. But as I keep reading, there’s a thought nagging at me: the story is starting in the wrong place.
Back story: Many revisions ago, I kidnapped a chapter from the middle and lashed it to the front of the book. Chapter 1. Why? I loved the opening line it gave me:
As best I can remember it was the first time I’d awakened naked and face down in a pool of my own blood.
See what I mean?
Chapter 1 then became about the protagonist extracting himself from a no-tell motel — an event that actually happened in the middle of the story’s timeline. Chapter 2 leaps back a few weeks to the “beginning.” From there the story is told chronologically.
This is a fairly common dramatic technique, and it worked for me as I wrote the book. But now? I’m thinking it might be better pluck what’s now Chapter 1 and replant it in its original home — Chapter 13. That means I have to write a new opening.
Which isn’t really that big of a problem. It just wasn’t what I expected to be doing at this point.
The real challenge, of course, will be crafting a new opening line. And, I admit I’m more than a little nutty about opening lines. I often wander bookstores reading opening lines to see what grabs me. I’ve read dozens (maybe hundreds) of books out of my normal reading genres based strictly on a killer opening.
Some of my favorites:
- Call me Ishmael. — Herman Melville, Moby-Dick
- The office of the university president looked like the front parlor of a successful Victorian whorehouse. — Robert B. Parker, The Godwulf Manuscript
- Maman died today. Or maybe yesterday; I can’t be sure. — Albert Camus, The Stranger
- When the car stopped rolling, Parker kicked out the windshield and crawled through the wrinkled hood, Glock first. — Richard Start (Donald Westlake), Backflash
- All this happened, more or less. — Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse Five
- You better not never tell nobody but God. — Alice Walker, The Color Purple
- He was awake a long time before he remembered that his heart was broken. — Ernest Hemingway, For Whom the Bell Tolls
- I am doomed to remember a boy with a wrecked voice — not because of his voice, or because he was the smallest person I ever knew, or even because he was the instrument of my mother’s death, but because he is the reason I believe in God. — John Irving, A Prayer for Owen Meaney
- It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen. — George Orwell, 1984
- I am an invisible man. — Ralph Ellison, Invisible Man
- If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you’ll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don’t feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth. — J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye
- I was arrested in Eno’s Diner. — Lee Child, The Killing Floor
- I sat across the table from the man who had battered and tortured and brutalized me nearly thirty years ago. — Lorenzo Carcaterra, Sleepers
- It was a diamond all right, shining in the grass half a dozen feet from the blue brick wall. — Dashiell Hammett, The Dain Curse
- When the phone rang, Parker was in the garage, killing a man. — Richard Stark (Donald Westlake), Firebreak
That’s enough for now.