If you can’t be the best, why not be the worst?

A friend recently sent me the winning entry of this year’s Bulwer-Lytton fiction contest. The contest calls for literary parodies and gives an award for the most poorly written opener to a (possibly non-existant) novel. The contest is in memory of the author who penned the immortal words, “It was a dark and stormy night.” So, without further ado, the winning gem:

“Folks say that if you listen real close at the height of the full moon, when the wind is blowin‘ off Nantucket Sound from the nor’ east and the dogs are howlin‘ for no earthly reason, you can hear the awful screams of the crew of the “Ellie May,” a sturdy whaler Captained by John McTavish; for it was on just such a night when the rum was flowin‘ and, Davey Jones be damned, big John brought his men on deck for the first of several screaming contests.”

David McKenzie
Federal Way, WA

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