I love the first paragraphs of The Wanderer.
From the prologue:
Weddings were a pain more excruciating than a broken nose, or tooth, or both—an event to be avoided when at all possible. Only the blissfully ignorant would voluntarily submit themselves to the farce of “marital bliss,” never mind the noise, whimpering women, and a priest who would undoubtedly drone on and on unless someone whacked him upside the head.
Why did I agree to this shit? If this bint sobs into my sleeve one more sodding time, I’ll shove her into the aisle, manners be damned. I should’ve claimed a sudden bout of dengue fever in Macau and been done with it.
It still makes me giggle months after I first wrote it.
The first few sentences manage to bring Graham’s sarcasm, mood, and philosophy on life into sharp focus. He’s not interested in love or demonstrations of it. Commitment is way down on the list of things he wants to have.
In so many areas of his life, Graham could be considered completely fearless. Not in love. He’s a cowardly lion when it comes to relationships. He’s a man who has made one massive mistake and refuses to try again.
A cowardly ginger lion.
The first paragraph makes me laugh because I know what’s to come for him. Graham finds in The Wanderer how much courage he actually has. He learns, I think, how to love—and be loved. It’s not perfect, but he doesn’t need it to be.
After all, perfection is boring.
Are you fearless in love?
I wasn’t when I was younger–but I think I am now lol.
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