First Lines Friday is a weekly meme hosted by Wandering Words.
What if instead of judging a book by its cover, its author, or its prestige, we judged it by its opening lines?
I’ve read many more books than you. It doesn’t matter how many you’ve read. I’ve read more. Believe me. I’ve had the time.
In my white room, against my white walls, on my glistening white bookshelves, book spines provide the only color. The books are all brand-new hardcovers– no germs secondhand softcovers for me. They come to me from Outside, decontaminated and vacuum-sealed in plastic wrap. I would like to see the machine that does this. I imagine each book traveling on a white conveyer belt toward rectangular white stations where robotic white arms dust, scrape, spray and otherwise sterilize it until it’s finally deemed clean enough to come to me. When a new book arrives, my first task is to remove to wrapping, a process that involves scissors and more than one broken nail. My second task is to write my name on the inside front cover.
Read on to find out what book this excerpt is from!
Everything, Everything by Nicola Yoon
My disease is as rare as it is famous. Basically, I’m allergic to the world. I don’t leave my house, have not left my house in seventeen years. The only people I ever see are my mom and my nurse, Carla.
But then one day, a moving truck arrives next door. I look out my window, and I see him. He’s tall, lean and wearing all black—black T-shirt, black jeans, black sneakers, and a black knit cap that covers his hair completely. He catches me looking and stares at me. I stare right back. His name is Olly.
Maybe we can’t predict the future, but we can predict some things. For example, I am certainly going to fall in love with Olly. It’s almost certainly going to be a disaster.
This is a super fluffy, super cute story, perfect for rainy days and reading slumps! It’s definitely a bit cliche, not to mention highly unrealistic, but I guess that’s all part of its magic. Besides other things, it contains: major insta-love, quirky witticisms, and last but not least, angst.
I know it got made into a movie recently, but I have to admit, I’m a bit afraid to watch it. Although if I hear Alessia Cara’s “Stay” one more time, I’m going to spontaneously combust. I swear, it haunts me everywhere I go. I will die a happy girl if I never have to hear that ridiculous tune again.
I hate that song with a burning passion. Rant over. 🙂