trinityofone

Smart Bitches Trashy Books is having a contest in honor of the 2008 Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest Winners. Two years ago, I held a similar contest. I feel like it's time to bring it back—with a vengeance!

Here are the rules:

1. Comment with the worst sentence you can imagine opening a fic. I am opening this up to any and all fandoms this year, with the caveat that, as the initial judge, I may be more partial to fandoms I am familiar with. Note: the sentence should be a sentence. Crazy punctuation is fine and even encouraged, but opening paragraphs will not be counted. ETA: You're welcome to make as many entries as you like. I'd recommend one per comment for clarity, but I'm not gonna be a stickler on that.

2. On Thursday morning-ish, I will choose my ten favorite entries for everyone to vote on. Feel free to comment on your favorite entries; my opinions on matters unpolitical can often be swayed. ;-)

3. Voting will run through the weekend; on Monday I will announce the winners and possibly some runners-up. There will be prizes! (Most likely a selection of used books on numerous enchanting subjects.)

4. Feel free to link! Let's see if we can make this an omnifannish extravaganza.

And...go!

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From:

cat-77.livejournal.com

Sometimes, when no one was looking, usually during the night shift when no one cared what with it being late and all, Chuck would stare down at the gate and picture it lit in all its glory, shield shining brightly, and imagine the shocked faces and the satisfying thuds as the incoming team collided with the energy barrier like bugs on a windshield, whispering to himself, “Who’s the Top Canuck now, bitch?”