Without further ado...
1. The most important things are the hardest things to say, because words diminish them. Words shrink things that seemed limitless when they were in your head to no more than living size when they're brought out. And you may make revelations that cost you dearly, only to have people look at you in a funny way, not understanding what you've said at all, or why you thought it was so important that you almost cried while you were telling it. That's the worst, I think. When the secret stays locked within, not for want of a teller, but for want of an understanding ear.
"The Body," a novella from FOUR SEASONS by Stephen King, as guessed by Meri. It is one of the finest paragraphs I have ever read, encapsulating much of what that novella is about beyond the experiences of four boys going to see a dead body. The fact that it was made into a stellar movie is essentially beside the point.
2. No live organism can continue for long to exist sanely under conditions of absolute reality; even larks and katydids are supposed, by some, to dream. Hill House, not sane, stood by itself against its hills, holding darkness within; it had stood so for eighty years and might stand for eighty more. Within, walls continued upright, bricks met neatly, floors were firm, and doors were sensibly shut; silence lay steadily against the wood and stone of Hill House, and whatever walked there, walked alone.
THE HAUNTING OF HILL HOUSE by Shirley Jackson, as pretty much guessed by Michael Phillips. It's the best opening to any book ever. Most writers live all their lives hoping to create a paragraph that says all that this says.
3. Anna started smoking at around eight-thirty. On the stage, far below us, the tenor hit the crescendo of the big finale, and Anna, dressed in her black silk evening gown, burst into flame. And I knew. Beyond the shadow of a doubt, I knew - that the two events were linked.
VALLEY OF SHADOWS by Frank Fradella, as guessed by Sara Harvey. Which amazes me, because it's fairly obscure. The debut novel of a fine talent, a man I am privileged to know, and unfortunately it is out of print. There are still copies to be found on Amazon, but not for long.
4. The welcome wagon lady, sixty if she was a day but working at youth and vivacity (ginger hair, red lips, a sunshine-yellow dress), twinkled her eyes and teeth at Joanna and said, "You're really going to like it here! It's a nice town with nice people! You couldn't have made a better choice!"
THE STEPFORD WIVES by Ira Levin, as guessed by Angelia Sparrow. The irony of that opening paragraph is lost on us for half the book, which should never have been made into that dreadful abomination of a "comedy" starring the otherwise intelligent Nicole Kidman. This is a woman's nightmare, translating the deepest fears of every woman who ever trusted a man with her heart. It deserved better.
5. Beneath the city there is yet another city; wet and dark and strange; a city of sewers and moist scuttling creatures and running rivers so desperate to be free not even Styx fits them. And in that lost city beneath the city, I found the child.
This is from "Croatoan," the disturbing first short story in Harlan Ellison's classic collection STRANGE WINE. Its preface is titled "Revealed At Last! What Killed the Dinosaurs! And You Don't Look So Good Yourself." It is not a comedy. It is, however, amazing work and my favorite book from Ellison.
6. The terror, which would not end for another twenty-eight years - if it ever did end - began, so far as I know or can tell, with a boat made from a sheet of newspaper floating down a gutter swollen with rain.
IT by Stephen King, as guessed by Michael Phillips. This is here because it is, quite simply, my favorite book.
7. He hadn't figured on the moonlight. In Billy Tepper's imagination, each of the rooms had been black and formless, making him invisible as he entered. He had studied the rooms in detail during his casual visits so that he would be able to find each lamp, each radio, each tape deck in the dark. It would take more time, but he had the whole night to work with. The inky stillness would be his ally in case one of the students happened to be awake. Instead, there was light streaming through the small panes of the leaded windows, which reached from just above the floor almost to the ceiling.
TOY SOLDIERS by William Kennedy. This was made into a simplistic boys-vs.-terrorists movie starring Sean Astin and Wil Wheaton. The boys did an excellent job with the material given, but it was enormously dumbed down from this excellent novel. Now out of print, it is advertised as a movie tie-in. I can't figure that, since the plot is enormously different. The book deals with the complexities and moral ambiguities of Middle Eastern terrorism and legitimate politics in the pre-9/11 era, refuses to cast anyone as a true villain or hero and lets the good guys make mistakes. The movie turns the terrorists into drug dealers twirling black mustaches with only greed as their motivation. Still a fun movie, but I strongly recommend the book, if you can find it.
8. "Let's get the hell out of here." A gentle, eerie howling was in the air, which seemed to be permeated with the haunting and lonely cries of souls that had existed or might never exist or might be in some state of limbo in between. In the distance was the city. Its name was unknown and would forever remain so. The air was dark and filled with a sense that a storm might break at any moment. It was that way all the time. The storm never did break. It just threatened to do so.
Nobody got this? Really? It's the opening paragraph for IMZADI, which is still the most popular novel written by Peter David, at least the last time I got the chance to ask him. It may be a Star Trek book, but it's the kind of science fiction that crosses genre lines and drew new people into fandom. It's enough to break your heart, too.
9. Willie McCoy had been a jerk before he died. His being dead didn't change that. He sat across from me, wearing a loud plaid sport jacket. The polyester pants were primary Crayola green. His short, black hair was slicked back from a thin, triangular face. He had always reminded me of a bit player in a gangster movie. The kind that sells information, runs errands, and is expendable.
GUILTY PLEASURES by Laurell K. Hamilton, as guessed by Fiona. Sometimes a paragraph is all you need to know this book is gonna be good. I picked this one up because a friend recommended it. I sat down with it and my cafe mocha. By the time I finished it, I knew I'd be buying book two in the series on my way out the door. That's the power of the Anita Blake series, folks.
10. Scarlett O'Hara was not beautiful, but men seldom realized it when caught by her charm as the Tarlteton twins were.
GONE WITH THE WIND by Margaret Mitchell, as guessed by Deifire despite me cutting out the names. It's also the one thing nobody really realizes, especially since they cast stunningly beautiful Vivien Leigh in the movie.
11. "Be it known to all that the circle is now to be drawn," stated the slight, robed figure as she raised her arms upward to the sky. Her dainty hands held tight to the leather-bound handle of a Dirk, its brightly polished blade reflecting the light of the moon high above. "Let no one be here but of their own free will. Blessed be."
Ha! Got you on that one. It's the first paragraph of HARM NONE, first book of the Rowan Gant mystery series by M.R. Sellars. It's a supernatural police-procedural series with a detective who is a practicing Wiccan. He had to go to a small press because a New York publisher kept trying to write in flying broomsticks and a talking cat. I wish I were kidding. If you like mysteries, read this.
12. The dead scrabbled for an entrance to his grave. His wife was among them, as ravenous for Jim in death as she'd been in life. Their faint, soulless cries drifted down through ten feet of soil and rock. The kerosene lamp cast flickering shadows on the cinderblock walls, and the air in the shelter was stale and earthy. His grip on the Ruger tightened. Above him, Carrie shrieked and clawed at the earth. She'd been dead for a week.
Awake now? That's the first paragraph of THE RISING, the zombie novel by Brian Keene that hit the horror world like a bullet between the eyes. Take it from me: you will not be able to stop reading. I was sitting in a hallway during a convention reading that book, and people kept trying to draw me away to the free booze and dancing... Anyway. Read it, but buy the second book while you're at it. Because when you reach the end of THE RISING, you won't want to wait for dawn to go for the sequel.
13. Mr. Utterson the lawyer was a man of a rugged countenance that was never lighted by a smile; cold, scanty and embarrassed in discourse; backward in sentiment; lean, long, dusty, dreary and yet somehow lovable. At friendly meetings, and when the wine was to his taste, something eminently human beaconed from his eye; something indeed which never found its way into his talk, but which spoke not only in these silent symbols of the after-dinner face, but more often and loudly in the acts of his life. He was austere with himself; drank gin when he was alone, to mortify a taste for vintages; and though he enjoyed the theater, had not crossed the doors of one for twenty years.
THE STRANGE CASE OF DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE by Robert Louis Stevenson, as guessed by Kori. Once you know the symbolism of Henry Jekyll's hypocrisy, the seeming inconsistencies of Utterson make it a perfect opening.
14. There are those who have and those who have not. The majority of Black Stone Bay, Rhode Island, had it in abundance. Along the shoreline that looked out over the Atlantic Ocean, a long line of mansions stood at attention or sprawled across their massive lawns, regarding the world with blind glass eyes that hid treasures most people would have thought excessive in the extreme.
BLOOD RED by James Moore, a vampire novel that manages to be actually scary. Thought that didn't happen anymore? Read this.
15. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way - in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.
A TALE OF TWO CITIES by Charles Dickens, as guessed by Fiona. Which is good, because if no one got it, I was going to be seriously disappointed.
Thanks for playing, folks! CultureGeek gets a little vacation this week, but I'll be back with a batch of new comics and books for your amusement. Happy St. Patrick's Day!
