Hello everyone. I would appreciate some help with a question I have. I have been working on this manuscript for a while now, and I have a question about the opening. Read the opening and tell me what you think. I’ve written several opening chapters, and this is what I’ve finally came up with. I’m just not sure it’s compelling enough. Does it draw you? Would you read more? Is it too direct? Any opinions would be appreciated. Thanks in advance.
Justin
Oh BTW this story is a fictional memoir told from the point of view of woman who tells her story about her best friend the essence of her being. She considers herself a fag hag because well just read on. Thanks!
THE ESSENCE OF MY BEING
REFLECTIONS OF A FAG HAG
CHAPTER 1
I am a fag hag.
I earned that title in October of seventy-six when the man I loved, and the mirror of myself, so proudly proclaimed that he was gay. I shall never forget the dreadfulness of that night.
We were seniors in high school, and we were at our last game of the season. I was cheerleading, rooting for the team, when out of nowhere he approached me.
“Hey Tiff,” he whispered in my ear at halftime, pulling me away from the group of girls that surrounded me, “We need to talk.”
“What’s wrong Jerome?” He tugged on my sleeve without answering my question. I followed as he led us underneath the main bleachers.
“What’s wrong Jerome?” I asked in my usual high-pitched tone.
“Shhh. I have something to tell you. Keep your voice down.”
“Ok, what is it?”
“Well tonight,” he hesitated.
“Come on. I need to get back to the group.”
“Ok. You know Cody Williams right?”
“Of course I know him. He’s only the cutest nerd in this school.”
“Well, we kissed tonight.”
At that moment, I’ve never felt so alone, so scared, so betrayed all in one fell swoop. It’s remarkable, how in one short conversation, I went from being his best friend and part time lover, to fag hag. Like convoluted strands of DNA, my new life erupted. There, under the bleachers, I shed my old skin, and my life changed forever.
“Wha-what are you telling me Jerome?”
“I don’t know Tiff. I loved it. I think I’m gay.”
And so began my new life. My life as a fag hag.
Justin
Oh BTW this story is a fictional memoir told from the point of view of woman who tells her story about her best friend the essence of her being. She considers herself a fag hag because well just read on. Thanks!
THE ESSENCE OF MY BEING
REFLECTIONS OF A FAG HAG
CHAPTER 1
I am a fag hag.
I earned that title in October of seventy-six when the man I loved, and the mirror of myself, so proudly proclaimed that he was gay. I shall never forget the dreadfulness of that night.
We were seniors in high school, and we were at our last game of the season. I was cheerleading, rooting for the team, when out of nowhere he approached me.
“Hey Tiff,” he whispered in my ear at halftime, pulling me away from the group of girls that surrounded me, “We need to talk.”
“What’s wrong Jerome?” He tugged on my sleeve without answering my question. I followed as he led us underneath the main bleachers.
“What’s wrong Jerome?” I asked in my usual high-pitched tone.
“Shhh. I have something to tell you. Keep your voice down.”
“Ok, what is it?”
“Well tonight,” he hesitated.
“Come on. I need to get back to the group.”
“Ok. You know Cody Williams right?”
“Of course I know him. He’s only the cutest nerd in this school.”
“Well, we kissed tonight.”
At that moment, I’ve never felt so alone, so scared, so betrayed all in one fell swoop. It’s remarkable, how in one short conversation, I went from being his best friend and part time lover, to fag hag. Like convoluted strands of DNA, my new life erupted. There, under the bleachers, I shed my old skin, and my life changed forever.
“Wha-what are you telling me Jerome?”
“I don’t know Tiff. I loved it. I think I’m gay.”
And so began my new life. My life as a fag hag.