First lines of the novel I resisted the inclination to write today:

"This is not just another innocuous story about a boy who feels bad about a girl killing herself. The world has enough of those.

Claire Muñoz left no note. She didn't leave 13 cassette tapes, either. She didn't feel the need to explain herself, or her decision to take 60 tablets of Cyclobenzaprine on that Friday night.

Homecoming.

That night, Claire remembered the tire swing that hung from the cottonwood in her backyard. And she smiled. She remembered tubing at the lake, her grandfather at the wheel as he opened up the throttle. Her cousin, Carlos, waving the orange flag when she could no longer hang on.

She tried like hell not to think about the bad thing. But his threats kept ringing in her ears."

— Damien Willis
November 15, 2017