The Lyttle Lyton Contest
Teresa, over at Making Light, has issues with the Bulwer Lytton contest, asserting (and she's quite right) that the entries are generally well-written, it's just that they utilize utterly ridiculous metaphors.
Instead, she says (and we must listen because she's an editor at Tor books, thereby making her tantamount to God in the SF writer's universe), to check out the Lyttle Lyton Contest for truly bad sentences.
I enjoyed the following:
It was just like Jack The Ripper, only, this time, Jack was a she, and possibly some form of time-traveller.
The dame had balls, you had to give her that, and a Jetta.
Juicy, their love was like forbidden fruit: tasty.
We write the year 2347, a world abound with nuclear alacrity, when suddenly Frank enters with a smile.
Instead, she says (and we must listen because she's an editor at Tor books, thereby making her tantamount to God in the SF writer's universe), to check out the Lyttle Lyton Contest for truly bad sentences.
I enjoyed the following:
It was just like Jack The Ripper, only, this time, Jack was a she, and possibly some form of time-traveller.
The dame had balls, you had to give her that, and a Jetta.
Juicy, their love was like forbidden fruit: tasty.
We write the year 2347, a world abound with nuclear alacrity, when suddenly Frank enters with a smile.
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