first lines

I’ve been stalled for hours on an opening sentence for my book. Okay, so I’m procrastinating. Whatever.

1) I became what I am today at the age of twelve, on a frigid overcast day in the winter of 1975.
2) Clare: It’s hard being left behind.
3) Call me Ishmael.
4) It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.
5) It was 7 minutes after midnight. The dog was lying on the grass in the middle of the lawn in front of Mrs. Shear’s house.
6) It was a pleasure to burn.
7) If I could tell you only one thing about my life it would be this: when I was seven years old the mailman ran over my head.
8) Renowned curator Jacques Sauniere staggered through the vaulted archway of the museum’s Grand Gallery.
9) The old aunts lounge in the white wicker armchairs, flipping open their fans, snapping them shut.
10) I wish Giovanni would kiss me.
11) I was looking for a quiet place to die.
12) When they write my obituary. Tomorrow. Or the next day.
13) When he was nearly thirteen, my brother Jem got his arm badly broken at the elbow.

How many did you get right?

Next up: notes on the humorous nonfiction and memoir-writing panels I attended at the L.A. Times Festival of Books. First, though, it’s the weekend! Hurray for Date Night, beach-side picnics, and (slight hesitation here) Spider-Man 3!