BEST OF THE WORST!

Observation of the Day!

As an amateur writer, I am always interested how an author weaves words around to form descriptive phrases that capture the imagination and interest of the reader. Every year the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest offers prizes to whoever can write the worst opening paragraph to a non-existent story. It is named after the author of the first paragraph below. From the Minneapolis Star Tribune comes a few this year's winning entries.

*****

"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."

*****

"The hardened detective glanced at his rookie partner and mused that who ever had coined the term 'white as a sheet' had never envisioned a bed accessorized with a set of Hazelnut, 500-count Egyptian cotton linens from Ralph Lauren complimented by matching shams and a duvet cover nor the dismembered body of its current occupant."

*****

"Mike Hummer had been a private detective so long he could remember Preparation A, his hair reminded everyone of a rat who'd bitten into an electrical cord, but he could still run faster than greased owl snot when he was on a bad guy's trail, and they said his friskings were a lot like getting a vasectomy at Sears."

*****

"Theirs was a New York love, a checkered taxi ride burning rubber, and like the city their passion was open 24/7, steam rising from their bodies like slick streets exhaling warm, moist, white breath through manhole covers stamped 'Forged by DeLaney Bros., Piscataway, N.J."

Here is my potential offering!

The morgue was cold and damp. It was always cold and damp. The coroner pulled open the stainless steel drawer to reveal a dingy gray sheet, covering all that remained of the unknown victim. The crusty old coroner carefully pulled back the sheet to reveal all that was left of this poor man was the portion of the body below the waist line and above the top of the thighs. There he was dead balls and all. The only clue I had to his identity was that he must have had really big feet.

Have a nice day!

Sam