Tuesday, July 11, 2006

Warning: Bad Writing Ahead

So, now that this morning's rostering nastiness is out of the way -- on the way in, I heard on NPR's Morning Edition (it was one of those "wacky news" bits they put on the half hour) that the winners of this year's Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest have been announced.

The contest is named after Edward George Bulwer-Lytton, who, besides coining the phrases "the great unwashed" and "The pen is mightier than the sword," is also credited for writing perhaps one of the worst opening sentences in all of literature.

You may have heard of it -- his novel Paul Clifford starts with, "It was a dark and stormy night," which by itself isn't so bad. However, it goes on, and on, and on:
"It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents -- except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies), rattling along the housetops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness."
To honor his memory, the contest asks writers to send in their best efforts at the worst possible opening sentence.

The contest spans many genres and subcategories -- see the full winners list to see all the honorable and dishonorable mentions.

Personally, I think they missed a golden opportunity to draw from an actual work published in 2006; here's the potentially award-winning entry:

"No one noticed the rock."

*** Editor Joe immediately ducks and moves to cover. ***

(Of course, that's the opening sentence to blogger John's The Ghost Brigades, available at fine bookstores everywhere in the 'verse and known space.)

Thanks -- Joe


5 comments:

Anonymous said...

h

Anonymous said...

hehehe...  Good one.  Of course, you're probably not going to get a Christmas Card from Blogger John this year.  And, if you do, ya might not want to open it.  

-Dan

Anonymous said...

That's it. I'm naming a character after you in the book I'm writing now. And then I'm going to have him eaten by nefarious aliens. Just you WAIT.

Anonymous said...

No.  Not eaten.  I think that after a botched surgery, poor Joe winds up exuding the Giant Galactic Garden Slug pheromone and spends the remainder of his days trying to reject an infinite number of amorous advances.  

-Dan
http://journals.aol.com/dpoem/TheWisdomofaDistractedMind/

Anonymous said...

I lost my copy, meaning only Scalzi has one... but I wrote a short story that had a pretty active attempt to win this contest.