“It was a cold and stormy…”
*ZZZIP…CRUNCH, CRUNCH…FWOOSH…CHUKA, CHUKA, THUNK*
“He stood at his office window looking out over the bay…”
*ZZZIP…CRUNCH, CRUNCH…FWOOSH…CHUKA, CHUKA, THUNK*
I don’t know how many times I start a project, I never get the opening quite right. Sometimes I just jump right in without an outline even, and other times I have the outline and can never get the thing rolling.
Oh, forgive my bad manners. I am John Stevens. Freelance Science Fiction writer extraordinaire. Or just J.S. to my few friends. I am going to college for writing, but it doesn’t seem to help. The assignments are usually boring and never really what I want to write about. I live in a loft above my parents garage. but I am not one of those “nerdy” teens; I pay rent. These days it is especially hard to get a place and go to school while working at the local Burger Barn. I have a computer, but I type my stories on an old “Selectric” Typewriter. I wish I could say it is for nostalgic reasons, or to get in touch with the romantic notion of writing like my professional ancestors, but the cold hard truth is I can’t afford a printer AND ink for it. The ink costs just as much as the printer does…
But I digress. I have an idea for a story, but I can’t get the opening written without it sounding cheesy, or cliched. It is a noir style ’30’s type serial, with science fiction elements. Sort af “Maltese Falcon” meets “Flash Gordon” story. It opens with our private eye, Dirk sitting in his office, taking a break from particular difficult case, and looking out of his office window. Not really looking, but staring off into the distance. He sees a falling star, or what at first he thinks to be one. Then he notices it is taking to long to fall. Then he wonders, “Is that slowing down?”
He jumps up from his desk and moves across the office to stand right behind the glass. His nose almost pressed up to the cold pane, his breath leaving fog circles with each exhale.
There, a second “falling star” and it isn’t slowing down. As a matter of fact, it looks like it is trying to overtake the first. Angle steep and moving fast. There are a few quick flashes and the first one begins dropping like a stone. Something falls away from it. Looks like it’s heading for the warehouse district. Could be there in twenty.
*CLICK* “Judith. Messages, and reschedule my appointments for the rest of the day.” His heart was pounding as he called his receptionist, “If anyone asks, I have a meeting in town that just came up.” Or, he thinks, just dropped in.
At least that is how it would open if I could get over this writers block.