Showing posts with label First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros. Show all posts
Showing posts with label First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 18, 2014

First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intro


 
First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros is a weekly meme hosted by Diane at Bibliophile by the Sea every Tuesday.  Participants share the opening paragraph or two of a book they decided to read based on that paragraph. I have meant to read this book for years.  So sad, isn’t it?!  I’ve watched the move countless times.  Finally, I purchased a 50th Anniversary Edition of the book.  It includes three short stories, which I’m excited about.  The story is more novella than novel but still a huge treat. I want to savor it, but I know that I’ll still finish the book in a day or two.  What can you do?! 

Drop by Bibliophile By the Sea to read Diane's selection this week, it’s always a good one, and to see who else is participating. You'll probably get some good book titles, too! 
 
 
Breakfast At Tiffany’s

by

Truman Capote 

Chapter 1 
 
 
I am always drawn back to places where I have lived, the houses and their neighborhoods. For instance, there is a brownstone in the East Seventies where, during the early years of the war, I had my first New York apartment. It was one room crowded with attic furniture, a sofa and fat chairs upholstered in that itchy, particular red velvet that one associates with hot days on a train. The walls were stucco, and a color rather like tobacco-spit. Everywhere, in the bathroom too, there were prints of Roman ruins freckled brown with age. The single window looked out on a fire escape. Even so, my spirits heightened whenever I felt in my pocket the key to this apartment; with all its gloom, it still was a place of my own, the first, and my books were there, and jars of pencils to sharpen, everything I needed, so I felt, to become the writer I wanted to be.
 

What do you think?  Would you keep reading?

Tuesday, March 4, 2014

~ ~ First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros ~ ~


 
First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros is a weekly meme hosted by Diane at Bibliophile by the Sea every Tuesday.  Participants share the opening paragraph or two of a book they decided to read based on that paragraph. I read a book by this author a few years ago, shortly after I began my book blog.  I loved the writing and the characters were so compelling and interesting.  I’ve wanted to read more of this author’s work ever since.  So, when I was offered the chance to review one of her books, I was happy to do so especially after reading the storyline. 

Drop by Bibliophile By the Sea to read Diane's selection this week, it’s always a good one, and to see who else is participating. You'll probably get some good book titles, too! 
 

Oleander Girl

by

Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni 
 

One 
I’m swimming through a long, underwater cavern flecked with blue light, the cavern of love, with Rajat close behind me. We’re in a race, and so far I’m winning because this is my dream. Sometimes when I’m dreaming, I don’t know it, but tonight I do. Sometimes when I’m awake, I wonder if I’m dreaming. That, however, is another story. 
I smile and feel my mouth filling with cool, silver bubbles. Rajat’s fingers brush the backs of my knees. Even in my dream I know that if I slow down just a bit, he’ll grab my waist and pull me to him for a mischievous kiss. Imagining that kiss sends a shudder of pleasure through me. But I don’t want it yet. The chase is too much fun. I surge away with a splashy kick. Hey! he calls out in spluttering protest, and I grin wider. Competitive, he slices through the water with his fierce butterfly stroke and lunges for my ankle. I wait for his strong, electric grip to send a current through my veins. My mouth floods with anticipation of our kiss.
Then out of nowhere a wave breaks over me. Salt and sand are on my tongue. I try to spit them out, but they fill my mouth, choking me. Where’s Rajat when I need his help? Gasping, I thrash about and wake in my bed, tangled in my bed sheets.  

What do you think?  Would you keep reading?

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

~ ~ First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros ~ ~


 
First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros is a weekly meme hosted by Diane at Bibliophile by the Sea every Tuesday.  Participants share the opening paragraph or two of a book they decided to read based on that paragraph. I’m participating in the reading dare ( it's not a reading challenge!) The TBR Triple Dog Dare at the blog, James Reads Books. The dare is the reason I am finally, finally reading this book. This is an author whose books I’ve wanted to, and meant to, read for a long time.  I have this book in audio and paperback so I’ll be “reading” both.  I’m really looking forward to this book and plan to read it at my leisure, probably on the annoying Access-a-Ride van for the disabled on the way to my Dr. appts., or while sitting in doctors waiting rooms, or at night before I fall asleep or when I can’t get to sleep. (You get the idea!) But I won’t be surprised if it turns out to be one of those books I cannot put down and I end up reading in a few days!  

Drop by Bibliophile By the Sea to read Diane's selection this week, it’s always a good one, and to see who else is participating. You'll probably get some good book titles, too! 
 
 
Case Histories
by
Kate Atkinson
 
I
Case History No. I 1970
Family Plot 

How lucky were they? A heat wave in the middle of the school holidays, exactly where it belonged. Every morning the sun was up long before they were, making a mockery of the flimsy summer curtains that hung limply at their bedroom windows, a sun already hot and sticky with promise before Olivia even opened her eyes. Olivia, as reliable as a rooster, always the first to wake, so that no one in the house had bothered with an alarm clock since she was born three years ago.
Olivia, the youngest and therefore the one currently sleeping in the small back bedroom with the nursery-rhyme wallpaper, a room that all of them had occupied and been ousted from in turn. Olivia, as cute as a button they were all agreed, even Julia, who had taken a long time to get over being displaced as the baby of the family, a position she had occupied for five satisfying years before Olivia came along. 
Rosemary, their mother, said that she wished Olivia could stay at this age forever because she was so lovable. They had never heard her use that word to describe any of them. They had not even realized that such a word existed in her vocabulary, which was usually restricted to tedious commands: come here, go away, be quiet,.and -most frequent of all -stop that. Sometimes she would walk into a room or appear in the garden, glare at them, and say, Whatever it is you're doing, don't, and then simply walk away again, leaving them feeling aggrieved and badly done by, even when caught red-handed in the middle of some piece of mischief -devised by Sylvia usually. 

What do you think?  Would you keep reading?
I included an extra paragraph just because I thought it was good & cute & you'd enjoy it. I hope you do!

Tuesday, January 28, 2014

~ ~ First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros ~ ~


 
First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros is a weekly meme hosted by Diane at Bibliophile by the Sea every Tuesday.  Participants share the opening paragraph or two of a book we’ve decided to read based on that paragraph. I read this author’s first book.  It was terrific so, when I had a chance to get an ARC of his second book, I did.  It sounds mesmerizing and I cannot wait to read it. 

Don't forget to drop by Bibliophile By the Sea to read Diane's selection this week and to see who else is participating. You'll probably get some good book titles, too!
 

This Dark Road to Mercy
by
Wiley Cash 

       Chapter 1 - Easter Quillby 
      
Wade disappeared on us when I was six years old, and then he showed up out of nowhere the year I turned twelve. By then I’d spent half my life listening to Mom blame him for everything from the lights getting turned off to me and Ruby not having new shoes to wear to school, and by the time he came back I’d already decided that he was the loser she’d always said he was. But it turns out he was much more than that. He was also a thief, and if I’d known what kind of people were looking for him I never would’ve let him take me and my little sister out of Gastonia, North Carolina, in the first place.
 
      
My earliest memories of Wade are from my mom taking me to the baseball stadium at Sims Field back before she died. She’d point to the field and say, “There’s your daddy right there.” I wasn’t any older than three or four, but I can still remember staring out at the infield where all the men looked the exact same in their uniforms, wondering how I would ever spot my daddy at a baseball game if he looked just like everybody else.
 

What do you think?  Would you keep reading?

Tuesday, January 21, 2014

~ ~ First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros ~ ~


 

First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros is a weekly meme hosted by Diane at Bibliophile by the Sea every Tuesday.  We share the opening paragraph or two of a book we’ve decided to read based on that paragraph. This is a book by an author I’ve always meant to read and haven’t yet.  He’s written many books, so, hopefully, this is just the first of many of his I’ll read! 

Don't forget to drop by Bibliophile By the Sea to read Diane's selection this week and to see who else is participating. You'll probably get some good book titles, too!
 


Talk Talk
 by
T.C. Boyle 

One 
 
She was running late, always running late, a failing of hers, she knew it, but then she couldn't find her purse and once she did manage to locate it (underneath her blue corduroy jacket on the coat tree in the front hall), she couldn't find her keys. They should have been in her purse, but they weren't, and so she'd made a circuit of the apartment — two circuits, three — before she thought to look through the pockets of the jeans she'd worn the day before, but where were they ? No time for toast. Forget the toast, forget food. She was out of orange juice. Out of butter and cream cheese. The newspaper on the front mat was just another obstacle. Piss-warm — was that an acceptable term? Yes — piss-warm  coffee in a stained mug, a quick check of lipstick and hair in the rearview mirror, and then she was putting the car in gear and backing out onto the street.
 
 
She may have been peripherally aware of a van flitting by in the opposite direction, the piebald dog sniffing at a stain on the edge of the pavement, someone's lawn sprinkler holding the light in a shimmer of translucent beads, but the persistent beat of adrenaline — or nerves, or whatever it was — wouldn't allow her to focus. Plus, the sun was in her eyes, and where were her sunglasses? She thought she remembered seeing them on the bureau, in a snarl of jewelry — or was it the kitchen table, next to the bananas, and she'd considered taking a banana with her, fast food, potassium, roughage, but then she figured she wouldn't because with Dr. Stroud it was better to have nothing at all in your stomach. Air. Air alone would sustain her.
 

What do you think?  Would you keep reading?

Tuesday, January 14, 2014

~ ~ First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros ~ ~


First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros is a weekly meme hosted by Diane at Bibliophile by theSea every Tuesday.  We share the opening paragraph, or two, of a book we’ve decided to read based on that paragraph. I‘m reviewing this book next month.  I chose this book after reading its summary on Goodreads.  The characters and setting caught my attention. I was also struck by the author’s interest in music and writing music which is how he segued into book writing. The author’s three prior books are stories about the reality of struggling to grow up and the difficulties one encounters along the way. The storylines are based in reality and hard luck but also show glimmers of inspiration and hope.  All of the author’s books have won prizes, have been highly recommended and praised. I'm really looking forward to reading this book! 

Don't forget to drop by Bibliophile By the Sea to read Diane's selection this week and to see who else is participating. You'll probably get some good book titles, too!
 


The Free
by
Willy Vlautin 

Leroy Kervin opened his eyes to see a woman in a blue-and-white-starred bikini holding a pneumatic drill.  He could see her blond hair and high heels and thin, long legs.  For the first time in seven years he could see her without blurred vision.  He could see her clearly from the glow of a small colored nightlight.

He lay in a twin bed and looked at the girl.  He could read the company name below her on the calendar: JACKSON’S TOOL SUPPLY. He remembered that his cousin worked there. Suddenly he could think things through, he could put things together, where in the past years he’d been unable to.  It was like his mind had suddenly walked out of a never-ending snowstorm. Tears dripped down the side ofhis face in relief.  Was he finally free?  Was he really himself again? 

What do you think?  Would you keep reading?

Tuesday, January 7, 2014

~ ~ First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros ~ ~


First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros is a weekly meme hosted by Diane at Bibliophile by the Sea every Tuesday. To participate share the opening paragraph or two of a book you've decided to read based on that paragraph. This book was highlighted in the Shelf Awareness newsletter I receive in my email a few times a week.  I've read some of Doctorow's book in the past and really enjoyed them. This book caught my attention because of its unique, creative nature.  My copy is an ARC. The book hasn't been published yet but is due to come out sometime next week.  I hope I enjoy it as much as I expect too!

Don't forget to drop by Bibliophile By the Sea to read Diane's selection this week and find out who else is participating in this fun meme! You'll probably get some good book titles, too!



Andrew's Brain
by
E. L. Doctorow
 
I can tell you about my friend Andrew, the cognitive scientist. But it's not pretty. One evening he appeared with an infant in his arms at the door of his ex-wife, Martha. Because Briony, his lovely young wife after Martha, had died.
Of what?
We'll get to that. I can't do this alone, Andrew said, as Martha stared at him from the open doorway. It happened to have been snowing that night, and Martha was transfixed by the soft creature-like snowflakes alighting on Andrew's NY Yankees hat brim. Martha was like that, enrapt by the peripheral things as if setting them to music. Even in ordinary times, she was slow to respond, looking at you with her large dark rolling protuberant eyes. Then the smile would come. or the nod, or the shake of the head. Meanwhile the heat  from her home drifted through the open door and fogged up Andrew's eyeglasses. He stood there behind his foggy lenses like a blind man in the snowfall and was without volition when at least she reached out, gently took the swaddled infant from him, stepped back, and closed the door in his face.
This was where?
Martha lived then in New Rochelle, a suburb of New York, in a neighborhood of large homes of different styles _ Tudor, Dutch Colonial, Greek Revival - most of them built in the 1920's and 30's, houses set back from the street with tall old Norway maples the predominant trees. Andrew ran to his car and came back with a baby carrier, a valise, two plastic bags filled with baby needs. He banged on the door: Martha, Martha! She is six month's old, she has a name, she has a birth certificate. I have it here, open the door please, Martha. I am not abandoning my daughter, I just need some help, I need help!


What do you think? Would you keep reading?

Tuesday, November 26, 2013

~ First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros ~


First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros is a weekly meme hosted by Diane at Bibliophile by the Sea every Tuesday.  Participants share the opening paragraph or two of a book they decided to read based on that paragraph. I have wanted to read my book for this week for a long time.  Like so many other books, it just got away from me.  Recently I reviewed the author’s most recent book, After Her, which was very good.  This prompted me to get a copy of this book before I forget about it once again.  Many of you may have already read this book.  If not and you’re interested, let me know!  
Don't forget to drop by Bibliophile By the Sea to read Diane's selection this week and find out who else is participating in this fun meme! You'll probably get some good book titles, too!


Labor Day by Joyce Maynard

It was just the two of us, my mother and me, after my father left. He said I should count the new baby he had with his new wife, Marjorie, as part of my family too, plus Richard, Marjorie's son, who was six months younger than me though he was good at all the sports I messed up in. But our family was my mother, Adele, and me, period. I would have counted the hamster, Joe, before including that baby, Chloe.
Saturday nights when my father picked me up to take us all out to dinner at Friendly's, he was always wanting me to sit next to her in the backseat. Then he'd pull a pack of baseball cards out of his pocket and lay them on the table in the booth, to split between Richard and me. I always gave mine to Richard. Why not? Baseball was a sore spot for me. When the phys ed teacher said, OK, Henry, you play with the blues, all the other guys on the blue team would groan.
For the most part, my mother never mentioned my father, or the woman he was married to now, or her son, or the baby, but once by mistake, when I left a picture out on the table that he'd given me, of the five of us-the year before, when I went with them to Disney-she had studied it for at least a minute. Stood there in the kitchen, holding the picture in her small, pale hand, her long graceful neck tilted a little to one side as if the image she was looking at contained some great and troubling mystery, though really it was just the five of us, scrunched together in the teacup ride.

What do you think? Would you keep reading?

Tuesday, November 12, 2013

~ First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros ~


First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros is a weekly meme hosted by Diane at Bibliophile by the Sea every Tuesday. To participate, share the opening paragraph or two of a book you've decided to read or have already started reading, based on that paragraph. I've read several reviews and posts about this book and was intrigued by it.  When I saw it at a local second-hand book shop, I picked it up and started reading it and, the next thing I knew, I'd read 10 pages! 

Visit Bibliophile by the Sea for Diane's selection this week and for links to the other participants. You'll get some good book titles, too!


Stiltsville
by
Susanna Daniel

1969
On a Sunday morning in late July, at the end of my first-ever visit to Miami, I took a cab from my hotel to Snapper Creek marina to join a woman named Marse Heiger, whom I’d met the day before. When I stepped out of the cab, I saw Marse standing in the well of her little fishing boat, wearing denim knee shorts and a yellow sleeveless blouse, her stiff brown hair pinned under a bandanna. She waved and gestured for me to climb into the boat. She poured me a mug of coffee from an aluminum thermos and started the engine.

“Ready?” she said. We puttered out of the marina, under a bridge from which two black boys were fishing with what looked like homemade poles, down a winding canal flanked by mangroves. The knobby, twining roots rose from the water. I sat on a cushioned bench and Marse sat in a captain’s chair at the helm. She handed me a scarf and told me to tie back my hair, which I did. We passed an egret standing stock-still on a mangrove root, then emerged from the canal into the wide, open bay. The Miami shoreline stretched out in both directions. Marse picked up speed, and each time we came down on a wave, I gripped the corner of my bench.

What do you think?  Would you continue reading this book?

Tuesday, November 5, 2013

~ First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros ~


First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros is a weekly meme hosted by Diane at Bibliophile by the Sea every Tuesday. To participate, share the opening paragraph or two of a book you've decided to read based on that paragraph. I won this book last year and have been meaning to read it since. The author has also been on my list of author’s to read since her first book was published. The story in this book sounds fascinating. It’s termed a ‘literary mystery’, a type of book I usually enjoy. I’ve only just started reading this book but I’m already caught up in the story!

Don't forget to drop by Bibliophile by the Sea to read Diane's selection this week and those of the other participants. You'll probably get some good book titles, too!
 
 
The Nobodies Album
by
Carolyn Parkhurst

There are some stories no one wants to hear. Some stories, once told, won’t let you go so easily. I’m not talking about the tedious, the pointless, the disgusting: the bugs in your bag of flour; your hour on the phone with the insurance people; the unexplained blood in your urine. I’m talking about narratives of tragedy and pathos so painful, so compelling, that they seem to catch inside you on a tiny hook you didn’t even know you’d hung. You wish for a way to pull the story back out; you grow resentful of the very breath that pushed those words into the air. Stories like this have become a specialty of mine.

It wasn’t always that way; I used to try to write the kind of story everyone wanted to hear, but I soon learned what a fool’s errand that was. I found out there are better ways to get you. “I wish I hadn’t read it,” a woman wrote to me after she finished my last novel. She sounded bewildered, and wistful for the time before she’d heard what I had to say. But isn’t that the point — to write something that will last after the book has been put back on the shelf? This is the way I like it. Read my story, walk through those woods, and when you get to the other side, you may not even realize that you’re carrying something out that you didn’t have when you went in. A little tick of an idea, clinging to your scalp, or hidden in a fold of skin. Somewhere out of sight. By the time you discover it, it’s already begun to prey on you; perhaps it’s merely gouged your flesh, or perhaps it’s already begun to nibble away at your central nervous system. It’s a small thing, whatever it is, and whether your life will be better for it or worse, I cannot say. But something’s different, something has changed.

And it’s all because of me.

What do you think? Would you keep reading?

Tuesday, October 15, 2013

First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros


First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros is a weekly meme hosted by Diane at Bibliophile by the Sea every Tuesday. To participate share the opening paragraph or two of a book you've decided to read based on that paragraph. This book has been on my shelf for too long and I've wanted to read it.  It's a quick read, a lot of dialogue and rather sad.  The story mimics the author's life quite a bit.  By age 27 the main character has had something like four husbands and at least one child, if not more, with each husband!

Don't forget to drop by Bibliophile By the Sea to read Diane's selection this week and the other participants. You'll probably get some good book titles, too.
The Pumpkin Eater by Penelope Mortimer
"Well," I said, "I will try. I honestly will try to be honest with you, although I suppose really what you're more interested in is my not being honest, if you see what I mean."
The doctor smiled slightly.
"When I was a child my mother had a wool drawer. It was the bottom drawer in a chest in the dining room and she kept every scrap of wool she had in it. You know, bits from years ago, jumpers she'd knitted me when I was two. Some of the bits were only a few inches long. Well, this drawer was filled with wool, all colours, and whenever it was a wet afternoon she used to make me tidy her wool drawer. It's perfectly obvious why I tell you this. There was no point in tidying the drawer. The wool was quite useless. You couldn't have knitted a tea-cosy out of that wool, I mean without enormous patience. She just made me sort it out for something to do, like they make prisoners dig holes and fill them up again. You do see what I mean, don't you?"
 "You would like to be something useful," he said sadly. "Like a tea-cosy."
"It can't be as easy as that."
"Oh no. It's not at all easy. But there are other things you can make from wool."
"Such as?"
"Hot water bottle covers," he said promptly.

What do you think?  Would you keep reading this book? 

Tuesday, October 8, 2013

~ ~ First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros ~ ~

First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros is a weekly meme hosted by Diane at Bibliophile by the Sea every Tuesday. To participate share the opening paragraph or two of a book you've decided to read based on that paragraph.
I won this book shortly after it was published and have meant to read it ever since. Like so many of my books, it got lost on my shelves for a while but I recently unearthed it while on an organizing kick. I've just started reading it and already I'm hooked! The story is set in a private academy in MA and centers on a 14-year old girl who wants to be a journalist like the deceased Edward R. Murrow she idolizes and converses with daily! Sounds fascinating, right?!

Be sure to drop by Bibliophile By the Sea to read Diane's selection this week and see who else is participating! You'll surely get some good book titles!


The Year of the Gadfly by Jennifer Miller
 
Piezophiles
These pressure-loving microbes live in the ocean depths under extreme hydrostatic pressure. They exist not in spite of the oceans crushing weight, but because of it. Without this pressure to fight against, they would perish.
  ~Marvelous Species: Investigating Earth's Mysterious Biology

Iris
___________
August 2012
THE DAYS WERE already growing shorter, prodding us toward summers end, when my mother and I left Boston for the sequestered town of Nye. She hummed to the radio and I sat strapped into the passenger seat, like a convict being shuttled between prisons. In the last six months my Beacon Hill neighborhood had shrunk to the size of a single room: Dr. Patrick's office, with its greasy magazines and hieroglyphic water stains. The vast landscape that opened before us now wasn't any more comforting. The mountainous peaks resembled teeth. The road stretched between them like a black tongue. And here we were, in our small vehicle, speeding toward that awful mouth.  
From the maps and photographs I had uncovered at the Boston Public Library, I knew that Nye would be a nest of gloomy woods sunk into one of these mountains. The mountain had no name, which troubled me. Even the word “Nye” sounded like a negation, an absence, a place conflicted about its own existence.  
My mother (Ivy League MRS recipient and full-time philanthropy board member) was unimpressed by this detail. In fact, she was chipper as a Today Show host. “Isn't it exciting, Iris! Starting high school on a new foot?”  
“You want to replace my biological foot with a prosthetic one?”  
“Don't give me that cliché nonsense.”
You mean anti-cliché nonsense, I thought, and switched the station to NPR. I tried to let the familiar voices soothe me, but every mile brought us closer to the hunching mountains, those hills overlapping like the folds of a thick curtain, hiding Nye from sight.  
The official reason for my family's move was professional. My father (savvy businessman, befuddled parent) was opening a second Berkshires resort for tourists who liked to experience nature while they had their leg hair singed off with lasers and their eyelashes dyed. The unofficial reason we were leaving Boston, however, was Dr. Patrick. I'd started seeing him six months before, after my mother found me arguing emphatically with the wall. Well, all she saw was the wall, but I was having a conference with my spiritual mentor, Edward R. Murrow. (And, yes, I knew he'd been dead for forty-seven years, but why should a person limit her interlocutors to the living?) And because there was no “What to Do When Your Daughter Talks to Dead Journalists” chapter in the myriad self-help books my mom had been reading, she shipped me straight off to the good doctor.
What do you think? Would you continue reading?

Tuesday, October 1, 2013

First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros


First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros is a weekly meme hosted by Diane at Bibliophile by the Sea every Tuesday. To participate share the opening paragraph or two of a book you've decided to read based on that paragraph. I plan to read this book soon.  I received it a few days ago just as I started reading the author's first book, "Heart Shaped Box".  Both are thrillers (not that you can tell from this opening) so I know there are readers who won't be interested but for those who are, the premise to this book is fantastic!  I cannot wait to read it.

Don't forget to drop by Bibliophile By the Sea to read Diane's selection this week and find out who else is participating in this fun meme! You'll probably get some good book titles, too!

NOS4A2 by Joe Hill

Prologue: Season’s Greetings December 2008
FCI Englewood, Colorado
 
Nurse Thornton dropped into the long-term-care-ward a little before eight with a hot bag of blood for Charlie Manx.
She was coasting on autopilot, her thoughts not on her work.  She had finally made up her mind to buy her son, Josiah, the Nintendo DS he wanted, and was calculating whether she could get to Toys “R” Us after her shift, before they closed.
 
She had been resisting the impulse for a few weeks, on philosophical grounds. She didn’t really care if all his friends had one.  She just didn’t like the idea of those hand held video-game systems that the kids carried with them everywhere.  Ellen Thornton resented the way little boys disappeared into the glowing screen, ditching the real world for some province of the imagination where fun replaced thought and inventing creative new kills was an art form.  She had fantasized having a child who would love books and play Scrabble and want to go on snowshoeing expeditions with her.  What a laugh.

Ellen had held out as long as she could and then, yesterday afternoon, she had come across Josiah sitting on his bed pretending an old wallet was a Nintendo DS.  He had cut out a picture of Donkey Kong and slipped it into the clear plastic sleeve for displaying photographs.  He pressed imaginary buttons and made explosion sounds, and her heart had hurt a little, watching him make believe he already had something he was certain he would get on the Big Day.  Ellen could have her theories about what was healthy for boys and what wasn’t.  That didn’t mean Santa had to share them.
 
 
What do you think? Would you keep reading? 
 
 


Tuesday, September 24, 2013

~ First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros ~


First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros is a weekly meme hosted by Diane at Bibliophile by the Sea every Tuesday. To participate share the opening paragraph or two of a book you've decided to read based on that paragraph. This book caught my attention because the protagonist is a man, a dad concerned about his son and how he's living his life.  Most of the books I read involve female characters and their relationships with other women and with men.  I thought this would be a nice change and I also thought the story sounds pretty interesting.

Don't forget to drop by Bibliophile By the Sea to read Diane's selection this week and find out who else is participating in this fun meme! You'll probably get some good book titles, too!


A Friend of the Family by Lauren Grodstein
 
These days, when people ask how I'm doing—some of them still ask, you'd be surprised—I shrug and say, as manfully as I can, "Much better than you'd think." And this is true. I am fed, I am clothed, I still have a few patients, the Nets are winning, and my mother, thank God, has finally agreed to the assisted-living place in Rockland. And I have a home, of sorts—the room we built for Alec above the garage so that he could pursue his oil painting with the firm scaffold of our love and money under his feet. God forbid that Alec should ever have felt unsupported—that we should show dismay at his dropping out of Hampshire after three semesters and almost sixty thousand dollars of tuition, books, board, and other proofs of parental esteem. Sixty thousand dollars vanished—puff—like smoke; our son fails out of a college that doesn't even give grades, and in response we build him an art studio above our garage. And here's the kicker: we were happy to do it. This was one of many lessons we took from the plight of our friends Joe and Iris Stern, whose daughter Laura was lost to them once, and is again, now.

My new home, the studio, is floored in gray, paint-speckled linoleum. Alec's old drawing table sits in the corner, next to a double-sized futon buried under a pile of airplane blankets. On the opposite wall rests a slightly corny oak dresser covered in scrollwork and brass, which Elaine's parents gave us for our wedding and we dutifully kept in our bedroom for twenty-plus years. An armchair from the same era. By the armchair there's a stack of books, some Alec's, some mine: Bukowski and Burroughs, a small selection of graphic novels, and thrillers I no longer have the taste for.

I read in this studio. I sleep. Sometimes, on weekends or late into the evening, I listen to the Kriegers fighting next door. Our garage is situated along the property line; the Kriegers recently finished an addition, and now, without even trying, I can peer right into their granite-and-stainless kitchen and watch them go at it. Jill Krieger is a harridan, it turns out, and Mark likes to throw things. I wonder when this started. Elaine and I always liked them, always thought they had a very nice marriage, nice young kids; sure, their addition took forever, but at least they had the courtesy to keep the exterior tasteful. I wonder if Elaine can hear them. She and I never fought, you know, never like that.

If people keep asking me, look deep into my eyes to see if there are any secrets left in my stubbly soul, I tell them, "Listen, life goes on." And I'm not just feeding them formula, pap. Life really does go on. That's what I've learned. It goes. You'd be surprised.

What do you think? Would you keep reading?

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros


First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros is a weekly meme hosted by Bibliophile by the Sea every Tuesday. To participate share the opening paragraph(s) of a book you've decided to read based on the paragraph(s). 
I've had this book on my shelf waiting for me to read it.  I'm really looking forward to it!


Chapter 1
Family Home Evening

to Put it as simply as possible: this is the story of a polygamist
who has an affair. But there is much more to it than that, of course; the life of any polygamist, even when not complicated by lies and secrets and infidelity, is anything but simple. Take, for example, the Friday night in early spring when Golden Richards returned to Big House—one of three houses he called home—after a week away on the job. It should have been the sweetest, most wholesome of domestic scenes: a father arrives home to the loving attentions of his wives and children. But what was about to happen inside that house, Golden realized as he pulled up into the long gravel drive, would not be wholesome or sweet, or anything close to it.
The place was lit up like a carnival tent—yellow light burned in every one of the house’s two dozen windows—and the sound coming from inside was as loud as he’d ever heard it: a whooping clamor that occasionally broke up into individual shouts and wails and thumps before gathering into a rising howl that rattled the front door on its hinges and made the windows buzz. Golden hadn’t heard it like this in years, but he knew exactly what it was. It was the sound of recrimination and chaos. It was the sound of trouble.
“Oh crud,” Golden said
 
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Tuesday, February 19, 2013

~ First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros ~


First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros is a weekly meme hosted by Diane on her blog, Bibliophile by the Sea  every Tuesday. To participate, share the opening paragraph(s) of a book you've decided to read based on the paragraph(s).  This author's debut novel, Learning to Swim, won several awards. This is her second novel, a sequel to the first and both books are literary thrillers.

 
A Cold and Lonely Place by Sara J. Henry

Chapter 1
We could feel the reverberation of the ice-cutting machine through the frozen lake beneath our feet. Matt Boudoin was telling me this would be the best ice palace ever, and I was nodding, because of course every year the palace seems better than the one the year before. At the same moment, he stopped talking and I stopped nodding, because the machine had halted and the crew of men was staring down at the ice. Then, in unison, like marionettes with their strings being pulled, they turned their heads to look at Matt. Their faces were blank, but we knew something was wrong, very wrong.We started moving forward. Because this is an Adirondack mountain town and Matt has an ingrained sense of chivalry, he held his arm out in that protective gesture you make toward a passenger in your car when you have to slam on the brakes. But it didn’t stop me.Later, I would wish it had.

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Tuesday, February 12, 2013

First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros


First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros is a weekly meme hosted by Bibliophile by the Sea every Tuesday. Join in by sharing the opening paragraphs of a book you'll be reading.  This book is mixture of literary fiction and crime fiction which I couldn't pass up.  I'm hoping I like this book because the wuthor has written many others!


STARTED EARLY, TOOK MY DOG
By Kate Atkinson

1975: April 9
Leeds: "Motorway City of the Seventies." A proud slogan. No irony intended. Gaslight still flickering on some streets. Life in a northern town.

The Bay City Rollers at number one. IRA bombs all over the country. Margaret Thatcher is the new leader of the Conservative Party. At the beginning of the month, in Albuquerque, Bill Gates founds what will become Microsoft. At the end of the month Saigon falls to the North Vietnamese army. The Black and White Minstrel Show is still on television, John Poulson is still in jail. Bye Bye Baby, Baby Goodbye. In the middle of it all, Tracy Waterhouse was only concerned with the hole in one of the toes of her tights.

It was growing bigger with every step she took. They were new on this morning as well.

They had been told that it was on the fifteenth floor of the flats in Lovell Park and - of course - the lifts were broken. The two PCs huffed and puffed their way up the stairs. By the time they neared the top they were resting at every turn of the stair. WPC Tracy Waterhouse, a big, graceless girl only just off probation, and PC Ken Arkwright, a stout white Yorkshireman with a heart of lard. Climbing Everest.

They would both see the beginning of the Ripper's killing spree but Arkwright would be retired long before the end of it. Donald Neilson, the Black Panther from Bradford, hadn't been captured yet and Harold Shipman had probably already started killing patients unlucky enough to be under his care in Pontefract General Infirmary. West Yorkshire in 1975, awash with serial killers.

Tracy Waterhouse was still wet behind the ears, although she wouldn't admit to it. Ken Arkwright had seen more than most but remained avuncular and sanguine, a good copper for a green girl to be beneath the wing of. There were bad apples in the barrel - the dark cloud of David Oluwale's death still cast a long shadow on police in the West Riding, but Arkwright wasn't under it. He could be violent when necessary, sometimes when not, but he didn't discriminate on the grounds of color when it came to reward and punishment. And women were often slappers and scrubbers but he'd helped out a few street girls with cigarettes and cash, and he loved his wife and daughters.
Did you find this section interesting? Would you keep reading?