I shall submit three entries to the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest of San Jose State University in California. It challenges entrants to submit the opening sentence of the worst of all possible novels. So, this post shall test-drive my entries for the categories "general", "romance" and "science fiction". What can I do to make it worse?
General:
Martha was nibbling on her grand opulence sundae as a lorry-sized megapnosaurus smashed through the exuberant front panel of the Grand Palais, crashing Lord Edmund’s playful birthday costume party with odorous guts splashing right up to the miniature Buddha on the 18th century mahogany cabinet in the adjacent piano room, but Martha still couldn’t make up her mind if she had a good time.
Romance:
On a warm and breezy midsummer evening in the picturesque harbour town of Isla Cristina, traditional fishing-boats gently dandling in the evening sun, Lucy considered a sensation of moribund confection at the “I love you” Hank had just spat with germinal intention over lobster and caviar mousse, and excused herself, the evening song of a lone orphean warbler disturbed by noises of unorthodox disgorgement.
Science Fiction:
“I will not tolerate this insolence any longer”, Captain Zone Serrati barked while fingering for the “kick me” note posted on his back, but nobody really cared and after a brief, yet utterly futile, moment of suspense, Zone decided to sulkingly ignore the rest of the crew, intent on settling the score once they reached their final destination in the distant galaxy M87 half a century later.
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