Blog Chain: Breakin' the Law

I get to start this round! Aren't you excited? Here's the topic I chose:

There are SO many writing rules, but sometimes we have to break one or two, just to keep things interesting. Is there a writing rule you've broken on purpose? Why did you choose to break it? And if you want to post a snippet of your writing as an example, even better!

Raise your hand if you've heard that piddly little rule about not opening with a dream? Everybody's heard that one, right? And it's a big one. I've lost count of how many agents have blogged that you just don't start with a dream. Bad, bad writer for starting with a dream. But that's exactly what I did.

Here's my reasoning, and I'd love to hear your thoughts on it, even if you disagree.

I didn't just pick some random dream to make the opening exciting. It's a dream the MC has had countless times and it's integral to many aspects of the story, most importantly, the relationship between the MC and the boy in the dream. And technically, my opening is a daydream of just a small part of that dream ('cause I like to make things complicated), so it doesn't really count as a dream, right? ;)

Oh, and I started with dialogue, which I've heard is also a no-no. Bad, bad writer. I know.

So, anyway, here are the first 250ish words, in all their rule breakin' glory. :)

*****

“Is this Heaven?” I asked.

My angel laughed, his eyes sparkling in the light from the two moons overhead. “Heaven? You’re messing with me, right?” A warm breeze rustled the field of glowing blossoms surrounding us and tousled his curls. He slipped his arms around my waist. “Okay. I’ll play. No, it’s not Heaven, but sometimes, it feels that way. Especially with you here.”

He leaned in, his scent filling the air around me. His lips brushed mine—

“Livy?” Patty’s quiet voice jerked me back to reality, from my attempt to escape to a happier place. Even if that world—and the boy I’d come to call my angel—existed only in my dreams. “It’s almost time.”

I glanced across the room at the casket—shiny black with silver handles. Elegant, according to Patty. Like that mattered. It would be buried underground, never to be seen again after today. And that wasn’t my mother in there.

Patty settled down on the arm of the loveseat and tucked my long bangs behind my ear. I resisted the urge to release them, so I could go back to hiding behind the auburn curtain they created.

“You sure you don’t want to see her?” she asked. “This is the last chance you’ll get.” She meant well. Just doing her job as my pseudo-grandmother and legal guardian. Well, that was what she would’ve been. If I hadn’t turned eighteen on the day my mother died.

Full first chapter here.

*****

So what about you, my bloggy friends? What rules have you broken? Why did you choose to break them?

Don't miss Kat's post tomorrow! :)