Unlike the Bulwer Lytton award, which rarely features writers anyone has ever heard of - we get some heavy hitters in this award. My second favorite literary award is the award for Bad Sex in Fiction.
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I also love how some of the prize winners have shown up at the awards ceremonies, full of good and self-deprecating humor about their own badness (kind of like Halle Berry going to accept a Razzie for Cat woman - and being all hysterical and good-natured about it).Ģ. Each sentence is deliciously awful, spectacularly bad.
This one, the winner for 1985, is, I believe my favorite: The countdown had stalled at T minus 69 seconds when Desiree, the first female ape to go up in space, winked at me slyly and pouted her thick, rubbery lips unmistakably-the first of many such advances during what would prove to be the longest, and most memorable, space voyage of my career.
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Some other winning sentences: Through the gathering gloom of a late-October afternoon, along the greasy, cracked paving-stones slick from the sputum of the sky, Stanley Ruddlethorp wearily trudged up the hill from the cemetery where his wife, sister, brother, and three children were all buried, and forced open the door of his decaying house, blissfully unaware of the catastrophe that was soon to devastate his life.Īren't these great? Another winner: A small assortment of astonishingly loud brass instruments raced each other lustily to the respective ends of their distinct musical choices as the gates flew open to release a torrent of tawny fur comprised of angry yapping bullets that nipped at Desdemona's ankles, causing her to reflect once again (as blood filled her sneakers and she fought her way through the panicking crowd) that the annual Running of the Pomeranians in Liechtenstein was a stupid idea. The Bulwer Lytton fiction contest (award given to what could be a worst opening sentence in a novel - sometimes hypothetical novel - the award is named for the man who began his book with "It was a dark and stormy night.")Ģ006's winning sentence is, for example: Detective Bart Lasiter was in his office studying the light from his one small window falling on his super burrito when the door swung open to reveal a woman whose body said you've had your last burrito for a while, whose face said angels did exist, and whose eyes said she could make you dig your own grave and lick the shovel clean.
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