The Bulwer-Lytton fiction awards challenges entrants to compose the opening sentence to the worst of all possible novels. The 2002 winner:
On reflection, Angela perceived that her relationship with Tom had always been rocky, not
quite a roller-coaster ride but more like when the toilet-paper roll gets a little squashed so it
hangs crooked and every time you pull some off you can hear the rest going
bumpity-bumpity in its holder until you go nuts and push it back into shape, a degree of
annoyance that Angela had now almost attained.
And the sentence that started it all:
It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents — except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies), rattling along the housetops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness.” — Edward George Bulwer-Lytton, Paul Clifford (1830)
And you thought my blog was annoying….
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