This is the opening paragraph of the book I’m working on at the moment. I wrote the first draft longhand and have just started putting this on computer, that will be the second draft. Then I’ll do as many as it takes to get it right – which might mean throwing out this paragraph.
* * *
Frank Moran opened the door to his father’s house and stepped out into a glorious morning. Only the raven struck a note of evil. At least that’s how Frank saw it; a moment of darkness, climbing, diving and wheeling in the blue. Beyond the fields, Frank could see the new houses that his father had written to him about – when was that? Jesus, it must have been twenty-five years ago. Beyond the houses, he knew, what was left of the town hung on as best it could. After having been bypassed, the town lost more business when a supermarket complex opened about ten miles away, taking business away from the surrounding towns. For a moment, Frank wondered if there was anything he could do to help the town – his home town – the town that had made him – recover. But he brushed the idea aside, it was just cheap sentiment.