The Lucky 7 game has the following rules:
1. Go to page 77 of your current MS
2. Go to line 7
3. Copy down the next seven lines as they’re written–no cheating!
Sounds good to me. Here’s my contribution, from my string quartet novel:
He was right: music wasn’t transferable. When I put down the viola, the music stopped. If I didn’t practice, I’d lose my skill. A painter doesn’t need to keep practicing in order for the next viewer to see the same landscape, but a friend can’t pick up my viola and hear my music. And even worse, when I pick up my viola, the only music I can hear is my own.
I miss my grandfather. My viola was once my gradfather’s viola, but that’s all I have of him.
And here, as a bonus seven — from The Guardian. My first novel, which I recently rewrote because I obtained the rights to it again.
In the seconds after Sebastian’s death, every angel on Earth knew as much as the angels on the scene had known. The witnessing angels had fled for help: to Raguel, to Michael, to the archangels, to one another. One of Miriael’s friends had appeared at the dinner table, grief streaming from him like water from a colander. He’d begged, “Please pray—now—” and with a sickening finality, the story had burst from him. Josai’el had shot out of the house to pass along the request even as Bridget passed the potatoes. Before the end of the trial, more angels had been praying for Tabris and Sebastian than either could have guessed.
But now, without immediate need for prayers, the other angels still remembered, and Rachmiel found himself the second ring around the bull’s-eye, with Tabris in the red circle.
Some of my QueryTracker buds have been posting theirs as well. Check them out!