Have you recently experienced a dark and stormy night? Somewhere, in the distance, did a dog bark? And if so, were you moved to write about it? All in one sentence?
Have you thought about entering your flowery prose in the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest? So what if the official deadline was April 15th--the ACTUAL deadline is June 30th. Still plenty of time. No need to dilly-dally right up to the absolutely positively very last day.
I don't mean to put on airs, but I think, perhaps, my style of writing just might be compatible with what those Bulwer-Lytton folks are looking for. Can I not write a long-winded, serpentine-winding, circuitous sentence like a champ? Where else will this talent be valued, if not by the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest?
You can check out last year's winners here. If that doesn't get you motivated, then somebody needs to release a colony of agitated ants under your rumpus. It's not like you have to write a whole novel to go with your first sentence. A mere 50 or 60 words will do the trick. And there's NO ENTRY FEE! One guy even submitted over 3,000 entries! Now, I will be the first to admit there is the brink of insanity, and then there is the abyss, and 3,000 seems like somebody has stumbled over that brink and is plummeting towards infinity. Oh. Wait! I am SECOND to admit that abyss thingy, because first was Andrew McCarthy to Demi Moore in St. Elmo's Fire.
I'm not suggesting that you write 42.25 entries per day from now until June 30th. Just a couple here and there. You can submit electronically by email. There are even different categories. I'm not suggesting you are all writers of bad fiction. Simply that this could be fun. If you don't feel like it, don't do it. No skin off my bulbous nose. Better odds for ME!
I hope this isn't like that annual faculty golf tournament my friend Jim and I entered when I taught at another school district. The one where we were SO bad that we finished next-to-last. Right out of the money that the very worst team won for being most sucky.
Start building a fence around that abyss. Just in case I get off my ample behind and put butt in chair to pour my heart and soul into this, and then miss out on winning the grand prize pittance.
I'd enter, but I can't take rejection.
ReplyDeleteI am going to refrain from entering, because I think my attempts at GOOD writing might be possible entries.
ReplyDeleteWhat a wonderful contest. I could spend hours on that website, giggling. Glad to hear you're entering.
ReplyDeleteI'm with joeh. Rejection is a bombastic, ebony-colored cloud of sadness, woe and grief that only the bravest, stoutest, most disciplined of we mere mortals on this strand of simple life can handle, no less accomodate.
ReplyDeletejoeh,
ReplyDeleteYes, life can be such a harsh taskmistress, telling you that your writing is not bad enough to win a bad-writing contest. The nerve of that vixen! Just like that time my golf partner nearly cried because he was not allowed to hit from the women's tee, lost all but one (mine) of our golf balls by slicing into the woods on the first hole, and then declared that the tournament was rigged, because clearly, we were the worst.
Thank goodness I was fired from that job the next week when contracts came out, and never again had to face the humiliation of being the next-to-worst coed golf team at the school. Harsh taskmistress. Life kicked my butt, but made me stronger.
However...I have not played golf since.
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Sioux,
Fiddle dee dee. Better odds for me. Whatever floats your boat, Madam. If I refrained from sticking my neck out just because I feared a possible undesired revelation...then where would I be? Not the proud future owner of a proposed handbasket factory, that's for sure!
*****
Tammy,
Thank you so much for your confidence in, and encouragement of, my bad writing! I SHALL enter, by cracky! Even if I don't get around to it until June 29th. My work has to marinate, like cabbage buried in earthenware pots for months until it turns into delicious kimchi. I won't brag that my writing is tasty, but I do think some would concur that it has that very special aroma once the marinating is done...
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Catalyst,
Well. I'm rubber. Whatever rejection I get bounces off me and sticks to some gluey sad sack who won't venture 60 words in an effort to gain notoriety as a bad writer. Where would I be if I never sent my darlings, suitcases packed, faces freshly spit-cleaned, hearts on their sleeves, into the grist mill of literary contests? I'd be sitting right here in my dark basement lair, typing away on two blog posts per day, just like I am now. And I would never have placed 89th in the 80th Annual Writer's Digest Writing Competition, Memoirs/Personal Essay category!
http://unbaggingthecatsone.blogspot.com/2011/10/let-long-horns-blare-huzzahs-from.html
I'm going to seriously consider submitting something. I haven't given up yet on the idea of seeing my work published. Thanks for the push.
ReplyDeleteStephen,
ReplyDeleteThat's the spirit. It's not over. Like John Belushi told those Animal House dudes, "Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor? Hell, no! And it ain't over now. 'Cause when the goin' gets tough... The tough get goin'! Who's with me? Let's go!"
I mean we're going to enter our writing, of course. Not build a giant birthday cake float for the homecoming parade that says, "Eat Me."