opening lines of very, very, very bad novels (style invitational)
 

Third Runner-Up: She awoke early and thought to herself, "Yet another day for me, Jennie Smith, here in Seattle, working as a secretary." She got up, went to the bathroom, reached for her hairbrush and used it, thinking, "I miss Sean, my son whom my husband (Jeff) now has custody of since our messy divorce in February 2001." (Fred Burggraf, Charlotte Hall, Md.)


Second Runner-Up: When legendary actress and beauty Angelique Lafayette -- great-great-great-great-great-great-granddaughter of General Lafayette of Revolutionary War fame -- walked into the boardroom of the corporation she had suddenly inherited when her late lover and CEO, Piers Johnson, had died ignominiously in her bed after explosive lovemaking, there was nothing in her regal manner to suggest her overwhelming urge to urinate all over her expensive gray wool crepe Chanel suit. (Francesca Kelly, Rome)


First Runner-Up: It was a bright and sunny night . . . (Marty McCullen, Gettysburg, Pa.)



And the winner of the antique Martha Washington plate: I've never had a case more complex than the theft of the jade pillbox, nor a twist more shocking than the weepy eleventh-hour confession of the gardener, Mr. Rosebottom, and the strange events that followed in which his son, Elmer, was revealed to have provided the poison that killed Mrs. Dinglewood, with whom he had been having a secret affair for years. But perhaps I should begin at the beginning . . . (Brian Barrett, Bethesda)

Honorable Mentions:




Tina was depressed. She sat and stared out her window at the window across the street that seemed to reflect her staring out her own window. It made her reflect on her reflection, which, granted, at that distance was not clearly reflected. It was just like her life, she reflected. Always just a faint reflection of itself. This was all Jim's fault. (Shell Benson, Arlington)


For as long as he could recall, Nikolai had been obsessed with the banjo. It was heavy and substantial, yet graceful -- ironically, not unlike a wood-and-metal, stringed version of the giant lollipops that had so tormented his dreams these past few weeks. (Rob Doherty, Alexandria)


With the darkness absolute and the silence absoluter, Helen of deTROIt felt trapped. She felt like she was confined in a small crate, which she was, literally and metaphorically. The point is, this chick with the fiendishly clever name is stuck in a box, and she's got some things to say. You'll want to listen, trust me. (Mike Cozy, Silver Spring)


It was a rainy and dark night and Wanda was ready to start a new life with her husband and their three loving children, Tyler, Gwen, McKenzie and Sasha . . . (Jeff Kern, Gaithersburg)


A toe. Five toes, a foot. Three feet, a yard. Thirty yards, a neighborhood. A neighborhood where it would all happen. And it all depended on a single toe. A toe that held the fate of all mankind in its grasp, though its lack of opposable thumbs endangered everything. This toe was on the foot of the man who must win the marathon to save the world. (Eryk B. Nice, Ithaca, N.Y.)


Her desire for him became enflamed as she imagined him possessing her totally, carrying her to new heights of erotic pleasure as her body responded by getting all heeby-jeeby. (Eryk B. Nice, Ithaca, N.Y.)


Greg awoke from a fitful sleep to find that his hair had fallen out. Not the hair on his head . . . (Milo Sauer, Fairfax)


Bob sat transfixed by Elizabeth's beauty. Her tiny fondue-colored eyes, the way her hair curled around her neck like the tail of a pig, and her breath that always smelled of walnuts gave him an uncomfortable churning sensation deep in his stomach, as if he urgently had to go to the bathroom. "Is this love?" a little voice, the one that sounded like a fish, asked him, not really expecting a reply.

(Bird Waring, New York)


Once upon a time -- my, what a trite turn of phrase! It calls to mind those fanciful yet simplistic stories of old -- most often a thinly disguised morality tale that causes the reader to groan aloud in anticipation of yet another retread of a worn-out and obvious theme. Well, anyway, once upon a time . . . (Amy Corbett Storch, Washington)


Frank Jolson was as fat as a cheetah is fast. That is to say, if you could come up with some kind of mathematical equation where you could compare speed and weight, like some sort of vector thingy, and you assume that it's not like an old or lame cheetah, then the speed of the cheetah and the weight of Frank Jolson would be pretty close, if not the same, which is to say very much. (Brian Barrett, Bethesda)



© 2002 The Washington Post Company


http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn...-2002Nov8.html

Re: opening lines of very, very, very bad novels (style invitational)
 

Those are good. Good and funny. What the hell?

yeah it's a weekly contest the washington post does. this one was to come up withopening lines of bad novels. lol. you should click on my link and see if they have archives anywhere.

Re: opening lines of very, very, very bad novels (style invitational)
 

that's great.

Re: opening lines of very, very, very bad novels (style invitational)
 

Originally posted by Samsa

"I miss Sean, my son whom my husband (Jeff) now has custody of since our messy divorce in February 2001."

an, my thoughts are never that detailed and informative. I must be retarded.


Tina was depressed. She sat and stared out her window at the window across the street that seemed to reflect her staring out her own window. It made her reflect on her reflection, which, granted, at that distance was not clearly reflected. It was just like her life, she reflected. Always just a faint reflection of itself. This was all Jim's fault.
:rofl: The author's name was Jim?


With the darkness absolute and the silence absoluter, Helen of deTROIt felt trapped. She felt like she was confined in a small crate, which she was, literally and metaphorically. The point is, this chick with the fiendishly clever name is stuck in a box, and she's got some things to say. You'll want to listen, trust me. (Mike Cozy, Silver Spring)
hahaha, that one's just funny


This toe was on the foot of the man who must win the marathon to save the world. (Eryk B. Nice, Ithaca, N.Y.)
MAYBE IF I RUN I CAN CATCH THE NUCLEAR WARHEADS! GO TOES GO


Her desire for him became enflamed as she imagined him possessing her totally, carrying her to new heights of erotic pleasure as her body responded by getting all heeby-jeeby. (Eryk B. Nice, Ithaca, N.Y.)

lool

Frank Jolson was as fat as a cheetah is fast. That is to say, if you could come up with some kind of mathematical equation where you could compare speed and weight, like some sort of vector thingy, and you assume that it's not like an old or lame cheetah, then the speed of the cheetah and the weight of Frank Jolson would be pretty close, if not the same, which is to say very much. (Brian Barrett, Bethesda)

what the fuck did i just read

you'd think their publishers would prevent the distribution of shit like that to spare humanity.... heh

Hey, I like some of the honorable mentions. I dunno. It's good that people try to get creative... LOL, BUT THE ONE WITH "THEIR THREE LOVING CHILDREN TYLER, GWEN, MCKENZIE, AND SASHA"... LOL, I GUESS SASHA WASN'T VERY LOVING.

God, I know people who are into English are probably not into math. But that's pretty bad.

i'm not sure if people realize that these are made-up entries. the whole point is that they're supposed to be horrible. they're intentionally horrible.

(?)

OMG. Hm. No, I didn't realize that... why would they... nm. Yeah, I still like them, though. :\

Read the first paragraph of any Harlequin romance novel--it'll always be worse than these.

OMG, YES.

They're enough to make you vomit.

They call me Ishmale..


..I'm not exactly sure if the book starts that way..or whatever.. but if it is the opening line..then well..yea..bo0 to that..

I loved reading them in elementary school, and I always wondered when they made these vague references to sex and stuff... I was just like... erm... are there any novels out there taht are more graphic that I can masturbate to and understand what the fuck they're doing? Just like. Shit like. "She opened up like a flower under his touch, and he withered under her softness" like WTF??? I mean. For a 10 year old it's like very frustrating.

Yeah, and then I grew older and found those novels. Thank god. Or someone.

"In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I've been turning over in my mind ever since.
'Whenever you feel like criticizing any one,' he told me, 'just remember that all the people in this world haven't had the advantages that you've had.'"

call me ishmael? holy fuck. best first chapter ever. i mean all i've read of that book is like the first 7 chapters but it's fucking great.