So I was running my virtual mouth on Twitter (as I do) during #yalitchat. I mentioned I had to torch a killer opening line for my WIP and someone asked me why. Good question, right? That good questioner was Elyana Noreme. Since I like meeting new people (and I’m nosy), I checked out Elyana’s blog, The Girl, and of course I liked it too.
She invites her readers to play One Moment, where you search for “moment”, “time”, “forever” or similar words in your writing and post an excerpt. Not only did I realize that the word “time” is seriously overused in my WIP but I also discovered that time is a central theme that’s woven throughout the story. I’m not even sure I did that on purpose!
So here goes…
I choose the bathroom at the end of the dark, narrow first floor corridor near the back steps. Everybody avoids it because it’s small, old, and spooky. Relief washes over me as I close the lone stall’s heavy wooden door and swing the rusty metal latch into place. I rub my sweaty palms against my skirt. The rough wool scratches my skin. A steady beat pounds in my head.
Memories flood in. Police stations in three different counties but somehow identical, the detectives all wearing the same rumpled, coffee-stained clothes and weary expressions, saying the same things: Kids run away all the time. It’s hasn’t even been a month. You said she’s done this before. There’s nothing else we can do. The trail’s cold.
Lisa, missing. Mom, crying. Dad, angry. Me, forgotten.
I curl up beside the toilet. I don’t care about how filthy it is. I’m exhausted and the cool porcelain feels good.
My eyes close.