View Full Version : Writers Challenge II -- Worst Opening Sentences
It is said by many writers that the most difficult part of the writing process is composing a work's very first sentence. The first sentence sets the tone for what is to come and piques the reader's interest, compelling them to read on.
And you may have come across "worst opening sentences" before (there are several WOS competitions each year). You know, those misliterant one-liners that tickle your mind like chocolate-flavored flatulance wafted anonymously about a packed elevator of snickering teenage boys.
Well, ready yourself for the challenge of creating your own literary traffic accident dripping its own mangled analogies, metaphors and puns meeting head-on at the funny bone.
Remember, badder is better.
Commander Fry watched the temperature indicator of his descending space capsule with a certain degree of intense trepidation as his fragile craft began to quiver with its first tentative rubbings against a previously unknown atmosphere, sliding irrevocably downward into this new planet's compelling gravity well like a 12 year-old boy for the first time in the clutches of his 32 year-old, nymphomanic English teacher behind the bleachers. -- (c)2002-Mr. G
Your turn... ;)
As the beads of sweat rolled down his face he clutched at the controls, vigorously moving the knobs back and forth trying to maintain his glide path. His heart began to race as the ship pulsated down into the thick atmosphere. All the while heat building up around him so intensely, he thought any moment it would explode. The surface was moving closer and closer now and he knew he would be there soon. Fry firmly grasped the controls with white knuckled anticipation, took a last deep breath and ...
"Six is the lonliest number" exlaimed the fraptrabulous purple monkey who was a slave, yes, a slave, to the Great Gazooga Doctor McDouglesmithenheimenshtifer who worked his magic in a nonsensical world surrounded by bobbleheads and living pencils thta walked up and down stating, quite confidently "qua-qua-qua-quack-quack" as they surrounded McDouglesmithenheimenshtif (which is what they called him for short) as he shouted out "THE FLIM IS ON THE FLAM, THE FLIM IS ON THE FLAM" fearing for his life and eating a Scotch Mint.
From the Fraptrabulour Sextacular Misadventures of Professor McDouglesmithenheimenshtifer and how he Became a Doctor; Or, How I Learned to Love the Calculator
True story here, I had to grade a paper from a grade 11 student for her essay on 'Perfectionism'
The opening sentances;
"Perfectionism, a problem which many, but not all, of today's students, will often find themselves falling into, as they attempt to go through school."
--not so bad, until you read the second sentance (keep in mind, 17 year old writing here)
"I, myself, am a perfectionist, and I can attest to the daily, short term, and long term, problems, that one faces when always, constantly faced with an ongoing, and consistently, apparent inability, to relax when it is needed."
The minimum commas a sentance throughout the ENTIRE ESSAY was 4. I ended up giving her something like 23/40 and I was kind. My English teacher (ex-hippy and damn honest person for a teacher) looks at me after I read the first paragraph and I look up and go 'How can I grade this?'. He goes 'I know, I know. Just deal with them efficiently'
So on the back of the paper I wrote;
'While, it is apparent, that you definetely, definetly, gave it, your finest effort, I must say that you had, well, many sentance errors and, for a perfectionist, you, certianly, used, way, too, many, commas,.'
Incidentally I tried to stay away from the girl because one of her sentances in the essay went something like 'I would, literally, kill myself, if I ever got, or came close to, a D"
06-30-02, 10:58 AM
He opened his eyes, and he found himself surrounded by images of pulsating animal testicles.
06-30-02, 11:12 AM
.....Those testicles were round, as round as a circle, commander fry was on some dessert planet, then sun was hot there and the sand was even more hottirific, he wanted his mommy.
How was that for horrible? ;)
06-30-02, 12:09 PM
This is an exerpt from a story I wrote way back in 1991, the year in which, I think, I reached my 6th birthday.
'Fegs that mov.
Thegs that mov lik Mounan an pepille always mov strit to the frig...' This translated is...
'Things that move-
Things that move, like Mountains and people always move straight to the fridge....?' Why....This I forget.
Life seemed barren, empty, worthless and profitlessly bleak for Igor Starviskowski. The mellifulications of the feathered flying finches no longer excited him nor touched his soul with sweet sublimeness and the supple slyness of lying politicians no longer brought a sweet tingle to his ears. He contemplated the space behind his shed, where the mouldering corpses of Jehovahs Witnesses and door to door salespeople decomposed, buried and forgotten to all of the indifferent, cruel and relentless world.
It's not a continuing story thread. ;) :p
Only one period "." per post. ;) :p
Most humans never realized before it was too late that the blackhole's untimely passage through the solar system, like an out-of-control farm combine harvesting whole families at a Sunday afternoon church picnic, meant all Earth's inhabitants--not just those in the back seats of cars too busy making love to notice the increasingly rapid succession of sunrises and sunsets--were getting screwed.
>>Edited for syntax, some content.
It's not a continuing story thread.
You got me there. :o
I'll try to follow the rules more closely next time.
07-01-02, 01:44 PM
"Call me haveyouseenmydog."
07-01-02, 10:01 PM
"excuse me Mr Hotdogthatislost sir" said a meaty voice, "I am looking for a Master Saus Agemc Uffin, he has stolen somthing quite precious of mine, something I need to breath with, and its quite vital I have it back in the next.. ahh too late." THUMP* they are falling quickley.....
On behalf of you all that are going 'WTF?' i seriusly dont know what is going on in that story.
Hey, good bad is all that is necessary. ;)
In the beginning God...j/k
Commander Mantel, defeater of all space-time; lover of all men; cheeseburger eater extrodinare; laugher of bad jokes; even headed pimp; hyeperspace traveler pioneer; teenage flashlight maker; gullibler than a blond; beer chugger; flasher of young wemon; spanker of Dave Mathews; lifelong daydreamer; hobby paperclip bender; collector of all things small; fixer of burnt out light bulbs, and the winner of the Worst Opening Sentences, farted.
Shall we pretend there's a Sciforums urge for a Writers' Challenge III? ;)