Sandbox 11: Bits and Pieces

this Sandbox was by far the most fun. the object was to put together the beginning and ending lines of 10 books, chosen for whatever reason we want. most of the ones I selected are from books that have some sort of special meaning to me, either for childhood memories or because of a part it played in my development as a teen. well, except for Frankenstein; that one I chose just because I wanted to. ;D my favorite of these would probably be Little House in the Big Woods, mainly for the childhood sentiments associated with it. my mom read it to me a couple of times when I was little, I’ve heard her read it to my sisters, and I’ve read it myself once or twice. the other one that I really like is The Hiding Place, for obvious reasons. I think it was the first book I ever read that actually made me (almost) cry.

Little House in the Big Woods, by Laura Ingalls Wilder:

 First: Once upon a time, sixty years ago, a little girl lived in the Big Woods of Wisconsin, in a little gray house made of logs.

 Last: She was glad that the cosy house, and Pa and Ma and the fire-light and the music, were now. They could not be forgotten, she thought, because now is now. It can never be a long time ago.

 Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, by Jules Verne:

 First: In the year 1866 the whole maritime population of Europe and America was excited by a mysterious and inexplicable phenomenon.

 Last: Two men only have a right to answer the question asked in the Ecclesiastes 6,000 years ago, ‘That which is far off and exceeding deep, who can find it out?’ These two men are Captain Nemo and I.

 Frankenstein, by Mary Shelley:

 First: I am by birth a Genevese, and my family is one  of the most distinguished of that republic.

 Last: He sprung from the cabin window, as he said this, upon the ice-raft which lay close to the vessel. He was soon borne away by the waves, and lost in darkness and distance.

 Alone yet not Alone, by Tracy Michele Leininger:

 First: Barbara Leininger shielded her blue eyes from the sun as she looked up at the cornstalks that stretched high above her.

 Last: With tears of joy and a voice full of emotion, she whispered in Barbara’s ear: “I remembered my promise. I never lost the song of my heart!”

 The Hiding Place, bye Corrie Ten Boom:

 First: I jumped out of bed that morning with one question in my mind—sun or fog?

 Last: “Windowboxes,” I said. “We’ll have them at every window. The barbed wire must come down, of course, and then we’ll need paint. Green paint. Bright yellow-green, the color of things coming up new in the spring…”

 The Hobbit, by J.R.R. Tolkien:

 First: In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.

 Last: “…You are a very fine person, Mr. Baggins, and I am very fond of you; but you are only quite a little fellow in a wide world after all!”

“Thank goodness!” said Bilbo laughing, and handed him the tobacco-jar.

 The Reluctant Dragon, by Kenneth Grahame:

 First: Long ago—might have been hundreds of years ago—in a cottage half-way between an English village and the shoulder of the Downs, a shepherd lived with his wife and their little son.

 Last: And, as they turned the last corner and disappeared from view, snatches of an old song were borne back on the night-breeze. I can’t be certain which of them was singing, but I think it was the Dragon!

 Black Beauty, by Anna Sewell:

 First: The first place that I can well remember was a large pleasant meadow with a pond of clear water in it. Some shady trees leaned over it, and rushes and water-lilies grew at the deep end.

 Last: My troubles are all over, and I am at home; and often before I am quite awake, I fancy I am still in the orchard at Birtwick, standing with my old friends under the apple trees.

 Just David, by Eleanor H. Porter:

 First: Far up on the mountainside the little shack stood alone in the clearing. It was roughly yet warmly built. Behind it jagged cliffs broke the north wind, and towered gray-white in the sunshine.

 Last: There in a quiet kitchen he plays to an old man and an old woman; and always to himself he says that he is practicing against the time when, his violin at his chin and the bow drawn across the strings, he shall go to meet his father in the far-away land, and tell him of the beautiful world he has left.

 The Last Battle, by C.S. Lewis:

 First: In the last days of Narnia, far up to the west beyond Lantern Waste and close beside the great waterfall, there lived an Ape.

 Last: All their life in this world and all their adventures in Narnia had only been the cover and the title page: now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story which no one on earth has read: which goes on forever: in which every chapter is better than the one before.


About Elizabeth Campbell

Californian, feminist, ex-homeschooler/TPSer, current college student, wannabe writer, Christian. Made this blog 3 years ago for a high school creative writing class, but don't really use it anymore. Feel free to follow though, you never know if I might start up again (and I do reblog some stuff too, so there's that). View all posts by Elizabeth Campbell

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