My100: Original One-Page Story Hooks 73 and 74

The challenge: 100 first-page story hooks in sixty days. Just the first page (or less), and it has to hook the reader to want more.

The reward (for me): I have two writing notebooks crammed full of story ideas. It occurs to me that here's a chance, with these hooks, to try writing what's in them, just the first page, try it out, see if it has legs. These two are from page three of that notebook,

Seventy-three:

Cameron’s pencil drifted out sideways, feathering the line. She smudged it with the base of her palm, shaded it back in. Better.

But it wasn’t finished, the wing of this dragon. She could tell. And there was a little more on the clawed, scaly feet she meant to do, if it would let her.

If it would let her. Sometimes she meant to do more, adding color to the long, graceful necks, or a hint of metal in the teeth, cold and sharp as January. But sometimes it was impatient, and lived before she could.

This one would wait. She hoped. She wanted to set it free at home, where it would visit from time to time, not here in school, where her paper would tear itself from her notebook and fling itself against the window, and she’d be sent down to Mr. Partica’s office. Again.

Photo Credit

Seventy-four:

Abranathamian began the chant at the bottom of his vocal range, giving himself plenty of room to move upward and find the right frequency. Eyes tightly closed, he concentrated on the vibration produced in the crystal room, feeling it through the soles of his bare feet, along the hairs on his arm and the back of his neck.

He needed this one to work.

“Come demon of light, from darkness to sight…” If there was a demon about. The stars said there should be.

Even if there was, the spell might be refused. And then...well, that didn’t bear thinking about. Abranathamian heard the screaming of his wife and child every night. Magrath made sure of that.

Shock rolled through the room and up his legs. His hair stood out from his scalp like the tuft of dandelion. A demon’s voice resonated through the crystal until Abranathamian thought his bones would melt. It was willing. Finally.

Let’s see how Magrath dealt with this.

---

If you're looking for writing help--and who isn't--there are a lot of good editors on the Discord channel. I recommend it.

~Cristof

P.S. This series is the brainchild of The New Creatives, which challenged us to create 100 of something as a way of attaining mastery of a particular art form (or beginning the process, more like). This is my attempt. #TNCmy100