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Bad Writing


San Jose State University’s annual contest of bad writing awards a prize of $250 for the worst opening sentence to an imaginary book.

This year’s winner is, as always, terrible:

“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.”‘

Congratulations Garrison Spik… I think you congratulate someone for this?

The runner up, by Andrew Bowers, was:

“‘Hmm…’ thought Abigail as she gazed languidly from the veranda past the bright white patio to the cerulean sea beyond, where dolphins played and seagulls sang, where splashing surf sounded like the tintinnabulation of a thousand tiny bells, where great gray whales bellowed and the sunlight sparkled off the myriad of sequins on the flyfish’s bow ties, ‘time to get my meds checked.’”

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slaming

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