Some secrets were meant for sharing.
But not all secrets can be spoken aloud. There are some matters that need to be kept in the dark.
From her earliest years, Lucy had been schooled in the fine art of deception by her dad. Not out of a fundamental dishonesty or a disregard for civility, but out of necessity and self-protection. To always be discreet takes daily concerted effort, an effort that can eventually drain a girl’s soul. And to keep secrets you need to lie. Lucy knew this better than most people. Her whole life had been a series of deliberate misinformation.
Lucy James’ world would be devastated if anyone found out about her singular ability. She tried once, when she was a kid. It was a mistake then, costing her a best friend. The ridiculing that followed had re-enforced her silence from telling the truth about her curse.
Curses that can destroy your life are best kept private.
These are the first thirteen sentence of my current work-in-progress. I’ve heard that if you aren’t hooked by the time you’ve read these few lines, then the writer probably hasn’t done such a hot job with the rest of the manuscript.
How’d I do?
Have I piqued your interest in what terrible secret Lucy’s been hiding since childhood, and why her own father would encourage her to lie when a loving parent’s natural inclination is to teach honesty? Lucy James believes she’s cursed, and after reading the first chapter, I think you will too.
This book, and its montage of characters, has been through many changes over the past six years. We’ve been through hundred of edits, five hard rewrites, one complete overhaul, and a lengthy, regretful, abandonment together. But over those years I’ve learned so much about writing, and critiquing, and the fellowshipping of others, that I hope I’ll be able to pass on some of that knowledge in a manner simple enough for the newest of writers to understand.
I clearly remember the first thirteen sentences of my first novella. Every word was an adventure into a world I’ve only ... read about.