Yessss! The winners of the annual Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest for hilariously bad writing have been announced.
Sex with Rachel after she turned fifty was like driving the last-place team on the last day of the Iditarod Dog Sled Race, the point no longer the ride but the finish, the difficulty not the speed but keeping all the parts moving in the right direction, not to mention all that irritating barking.
--Dan Winters (Runner-up: Romance), Los Altos Hills, CA
Scarcely three months after he had promised Purity that he would stand by her no matter what, and a bare two hours after he had witnessed the unorthodox birth of her pointy-eared alien child, George somewhat dazedly approached the information desk at the public library and sent the matronly attendant into paroxysms of mirth by asking for a baby care book by Mr. Spock.
--Lionel Monash Hurst (Dishonorable Mention: Science Fiction)
His mistake, Shut-eye McBlamaway reflected, was not in standing up to a gang of desperadoes and rustlers on the high country, but in standing up to a gang of desperadoes and rustlers who had just left the set of a Sergio Leone shoot, and were thus equipped with those guns that never run out of ammunition.
--Samuel Goldstein (Winner: Western), Los Angeles, CA
When she sashayed across the room, her breasts swayed like two house trailers passing on a windy bridge.
--Stan Higley (Special Salute to Breasts Category), Fairport, NY
Getting the performance rating of highly successful, although clearly nothing to be ashamed of, left Blevins somewhat oddly dissatisfied, like when you realize, upon having the triage nurses greet your ambulance, that your underwear, as far as you can determine, is in pretty decent condition*, but you'll, nonetheless, never pull through the surgery.
--Jim Lubell (Miscellaneous Dishonorable Mention), Mechanicsville, Maryland
*Jerry Seinfeld was right: It doesn't matter if you're wearing clean underwear when you get hit by a bus, because they'll be covered with blood. Also, as I discovered in my stint at the hospital, if you're in bad enough shape, the ER techs slice all your clothes off & throw them away--even items that easily zip off, like my leather riding gaiters. (Grrr!) Which is how I wound up wearing nothing but a hospital gown--or two, for walks in the hallway--for an entire week.