A little bit of fun here with a competition for the worst sentence of the year. Today’s Sunday reblog is from Bridget Whelan‘s blog and I hope you enjoy it!
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.
Every year the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest at San Jose State University honours the author of an obscure 1830 novel, Paul Clifford, which opens with this famous opening sentence. Thousands of writers from around the world compete against each other to come up with something that comes close to the awfulness of the original.
This year Joel Phillips from New Jersey won with this entry:
Seeing how the victim’s body, or what remained of it, was wedged between the grill of the Peterbilt 389 and the bumper of the 2008 Cadillac Escalade EXT, officer…
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