This year’s “winner” of the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest is Jim Guigli of Carmichael, CA.
His winning entry:
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.
The competition is named after Victorian novelist Edward George Earl Bulwer-Lytton (1803-1873), who is best known for The Last Days of Pompeii, but who also opened his 1830 novel Paul Clifford with the unforgettable and oft-lampooned phrase “It was a dark and stormy night.”
I like the runner-up entry:
“I know what you’re thinking, punk,” hissed Wordy Harry to his new editor, “you’re thinking, ‘Did he use six superfluous adjectives or only five?’ – and to tell the truth, I forgot myself in all this excitement; but being as this is English, the most powerful language in the world, whose subtle nuances will blow your head clean off, you’ve got to ask yourself one question: ‘Do I feel loquacious?’ – well do you, punk?” – Stuart Vasepuru, Edinburgh, Scotland
And, of course, I must also quote the fantasy fiction winner:
It was within the great stony nostril of a statue of Landrick the Elfin Vicelord that Frodo’s great uncle, Jasper Baggins, happened to stumble upon the enchanted Bag of Holding, not to be confused with the Hag of Bolding, who was quite fond of leeks, most especially in a savory Hobbit knuckle stew. – Camille Barigar, Twin Falls, ID
And, last, but certainly not least, the science fiction winner:
“Send a message back to Command Central on Earth and ask for their advice, which we will be able receive immediately even at this great distance, thanks to the ingenious manipulation of coherent radiation through a Bose-Einstein condensate and the bizarre influence of the Aspect effect, which enables us to impart identical properties to remotely separated photons,” Captain Buzz told the feathered Vjorkog at the comms desk, “and tell them our life-pod is going to explode in eight seconds.” – Christopher Backeberg, KwaZulu-Natal, South Africa