So it's been a year since Corinne first invited me to write for her website (not counting all our cross-posts from back in the Woodsy Crypt days). At first I was just giving her the very occasional guest post about comics but soon enough I had my weekly Laserium offerings. Thanks to Corinne for inviting me to contribute. I'm a better writer than I was a year ago and I owe a lot of that to her. It's been fun coming up with something each week, and it's been nice having my archival footage to fall back on when I get too swamped, which, since I work 50 hours a week and have two kids to take care of during my days off, is most of the time. But I love it when I come up with something new. Like this! If you start seeing stories with openers taken from the following, you'll know I've become desperate.
Nineteen Rejected Opening Lines
Recently, I . . .
Today, I . . .
Webster defines . . .
It was the summer of Vanilla Coke in Canada.
I put a frisbee on my IglooTherm2000 and called it my winter of disc-on-tent.
The ding-dong of the doorbell overrode the tick-tock of the clock.
It all started the day I finally sorted my junk drawer.
I had the last living narwhal for lunch.
I was the crime minister before I became the Prime Minister.
Yeah, you should never take the road less traveled when you’re hitchhiking, bub.
The day I declared my major in xenomorphology was also the day the Draxons declared war on us.
I have uncovered evidence that Shakespeare actually wrote Beethoven’s symphonies, and Beethoven wrote Shakespeare’s plays.
She said stromatolites when she really meant stromatoporoids, and I was smitten.
He always tipped precisely 16.25% and that was to be his downfall in the end.
Yes, I know my secret origin is that I ran into a moose with my truck, thus becoming MooseMan, you don’t have to remind me.
It’s not at all cheating to say I spy with my little eye all the dark matter in the universe.
After Odin convinced me that he was indeed who he said he was, I agreed to become the new god of thunder.
The Three Laws of Thermodynamics ain't got nothing on my Three Laws of Don't Fuck With Me.
I am a terrible writer and I’m never going to get any better and I might as well give up now.
- Nathan Waddell