Milk in My Coffee

I heard of Eric Jerome Dickey's death last month and went looking for one of his books. Milk in My Coffee caught my eye. I liked the first sentence, and I liked the book. I wish I'd heard of him sooner. 

"Before I could make it to the 42nd Street station in Times Square, my damn fingertips were aching." The sentence establishes a specific location: near 42nd Street station in Times square. We could find this place down to the block, and from New Year's Eve broadcasts and dozens of movies, we know this place: New York City. 

We also hear a voice. The mild swear word "damn" intensifies the final phrase and marks the speaker as someone who will break a social expectation. It makes the sentence rougher, bolder, and more personal. It falls in a curious place: "my damn fingertips were aching." It's more common to swear at other people or outside circumstances. Who would damn themselves or some part of themselves? Why be angry with your own fingertips? 

The fingertips hurt. They started hurting "before I could make it" – that is, in a short time. It must be very cold outside. 

So we have a character ("I," a person open enough to swear in front of us), in a location (Times Square), with a problem (very cold). That's three strong parts of a setting. 

The physical cold won't last. But swearing at oneself is a sign of discomfort – perhaps an emotional sort of cold – that could take longer to overcome. Now the story is well launched. 

I'm not sure why Eric Jerome Dickey hadn't come to my attention sooner. The ways I keep up with publishing hadn't intersected his publicity. I'm spreading my attention more widely since I started gathering interesting first sentences. I was glad to have his portrait of the people and perspectives in Milk in My Coffee. 

Graphic design by Ken Silbert