Wanted: A few bad sentences from good writers
The developer felt tears of nostalgic appreciation rolling down his cheek as he eyed 61 acres of near-pristine open space, much like he remembered from his idyllic days growing up in an Iowa farm community, and he emotionally whispered, “I wonder how many warehouses I can fit in there?”
His astrologer had assured him that morning that the moon was in the seventh house, Jupiter was aligned with Mars and peace was finding the planets, but as Al Mix trudged away from his fifth consecutive curt rejection at the Bogota, N.J., Portuguese American Club’s annual Spring Fling singles dance, he concluded that love was not steering his stars.
The Tyrannosaurus rex known as Dagger Tooth paused in her roaring pursuit of a frightened herd of hadrosaurs to watch a fiery object soar across the sky and rhetorically ask no one in particular — in the characteristic T-Rex language of deep growls and groans — “Could that be an asteroid?”
The preceding are three of my entries in the 2022 Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest. I hope to churn out a couple more before the June 30 deadline.
San Jose State University’s contest, which has become an international phenomenon over the past several decades, challenges writers from around the world to write the first sentence of the worst possible novel. It recognizes Victorian novelist Edward George Bulwer-Lytton and this epic opening sentence:
“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.”
In what I hope the organizers recognize is a sincere act of tribute rather than theft, I’ve been borrowing the idea, more or less annually, to conduct the Lehigh Valley’s own version of the Bulwer-Lytton contest, inviting readers to submit their sentences to me for evaluation by a not-particularly-distinguished panel of judges.
It’s especially appealing to me in this, our 11th year, because as I prepare this column, I’m about to approach true cyborg status by undergoing my third joint replacement surgery in just over seven months, this time for my right hip. Confined to my recliner and zonked out on drugs, I prefer not to add to my woes by enduring readers’ nasty emails and letters to the editor about my appalling political views.
I have no doubt that some people find my Bulwer-Lytton columns to be stupid, but at least they tend to be politically inoffensive.
So I should have at least a couple of weeks of relief from being told what a jerk I am.
I often have referred to this as a bad writing contest, but the fact is, it takes a good writer to create a skillfully bad sentence. If you find it takes you a while to find your stride, be aware there is no limit to how many you can submit to my contest and there’s no deadline in sight.
One frequent contestant from Los Angeles routinely sends me two or three dozen, and although no one else is quite that prolific, it’s not uncommon for me to receive several sentences at once or over a period of weeks as new inspiration strikes. So don’t hold back.
The Lehigh Valley has been well represented in the international contest. I won the Western Category in 2017 and followed that up with a Dishonorable Mention in the Fantasy and Horror category in 2019. Many of the same names that regularly turn up as standouts in our local contest can be found in the lists of real Bulwer-Lytton winners, including Steve Lauducci of Bethlehem, who earned a Dishonorable Mention in the 2021 Dark and Stormy category with this entry:
“It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in Torrance, but not in nearby Rancho Palos Verdes, which was unusual given the two towns’ proximity.”
I’ll share lots more past prize winners from our contest and the international competition in the coming weeks. Meanwhile, I suggest you check the Bulwer-Lytton website (www.bulwer-lytton.com) for inspiration.
Here’s one tip that I offer every year: This is not a long sentence contest. Although some of them do meander, you are more likely to succeed with entries that surprise the reader with unusual imagery and subject matter and some kind of twist.
For inspiration, I’ll conclude with the real contest’s 2021 Grand Prize winner, submitted by Stu Duval of Auckland, New Zealand:
“A lecherous sunrise flaunted itself over a flatulent sea, ripping the obsidian bodice of night asunder with its rapacious fingers of gold, thus exposing her dusky bosom to the dawn’s ogling stare.”
Start writing.