I encourage you to shoot for fame, but unfortunately no fortune, by submitting your entries here. You may enter, for free, as often as you like.
I would like to enjoy your submissions as well, and I invite you to post them here. Please note: to keep within the contest rules, you should submit them as entries PRIOR to posting them here.
Here are the two entries I’ve submitted so far.
Enchantingly beautiful Togo is tucked under West Africa like the ball sac on a fat guy.
Gerald pondered his astonishing survival – what had heretofore seemed embarassing weaknesses now appeared divinely ordained – a weak bladder and extreme personal modesty having driven him deep into an underground cave to relieve himself moments before a tremendous volcanic eruption spewed God’s wrath over his village: Gerald now imagined his next bodily secretions were sacred offerings,and he pledged, “My leak is for the Lord, my mucous belongs to mother, and my fart belongs to daddy.”
Thank you, Jim, for showing us that crappy writing is indeed a worthwhile endeavor.
My entry:
Walking along the highway, Martin startled a snake which let out an “S” – not that he actually said the letter “S”, which, being a snake, and therefore lacking vocal chords, is an impossible feat; rather he let out what sounded like the noise a snake would make if it started to hiss, but was immediately (and rudely) run over by a large truck – and was run over by a large truck (the snake, not Martin).
I’ll be somebody’s coach. An excellent entry would not only include the requisite Victorian elliptical clauses (like “…which is to say…”), but also one or two modern annoyances (like “literally” followed by something figurative).
I took a flyer on this, basically throwing something together in about 5 minutes. It sucks, but it may not suck in a way needed to make an impact in this competition.
The alarming ring of the telephone (alarming in the sense that he didn’t expect the ring (though, as a technical support analyst, it should not have come as a surprise) and not in the sense that it woke him from a sound slumber as if on some vibrant Spring morn when one would think most people would have better things to do than call technical support such as tending the garden, walking through a verdant meadow, or staring at the ever-changing clouds (assuming there is some sort of cloud cover, after all, it was a vibrant Spring morn)) stirred David from his contemplative state and into a Pavlovian response mode of grudging aid driven more by a defined series of structured steps in a dusty manual and less by an altruistic sense of human kindness until he realized the ringing phone was in the next cube over.
It was a marvelous day full of sunshine and dry warmth in pale Canberra (where the bulk, though not the entirety, of our story shall be found) when Martin Warner discovered, much to his chagrin – though not nearly to the degree of chagrin-ness experienced by the other patrons of this particular sidewalk cafe – that the cigar box which heretofore housed his most poisonous and furry spider was unquestionably devoid of anything either poisonous or fuzzy, but instead contained only a portion of the scream Martin emitted upon the dual discovery of the fact that Fluff (Fluff being, of course, his missing spider) was missing and that he quite suddenly no longer had to pee.
I’m going to go on and steal Mullinator’s line: this sucks, but probably not in the right way.
I considered using the first sentence of one of my posts, but I’m not going to for two reasons. First as has been said, it might not suck in the proper manner. Secondly, I doubt that the judges would believe that anyone could write so bad a sentence.
Og help me, I just submitted an entry, although I was loathe to give my addy and phone number. Oh, well, if Boyo Jim says it’s okay, I guess I won’t worry.
Okay, you wanna see it? Really? Okay:
I had pondered leaving the shores of Desideria for some time, but had not found the courage until I met a man who set my sails soaring as high as the farthest galaxy, taking me to heights I had never known in my sheltered and lonely life.
I am very enthusiastic about my latest entry, another sequel sentence to this year’s winning entry:
“As Gerald began to dig out, he pondered the reasons for his continued existence – the excessive modesty and weak bladder which had led him deep into the bowels of a cave to relieve himself moments before a massive volcanic eruption had devastated the landscape for miles around – and wished he had never heard that the interior of a cave was known as its bowels as he had begun to worry that urinating into bowels might mean he was gay; and had he expressed this concern aloud it would have been clear to anyone listening that whatever reasons there might be for his survival, quick wits were not among them.”
I continue to draw inspiration from the SDMB to generate my submissions for next year’s contest. Here is my latest entry:
Like a demented Roomba repeatedly bumping against the same couch leg and plaintively sucking until the batteries ran down, Britney gyrated against the microphone stand.
Not anywhere near long or convoluted enough. As with any worthwhile endeavor, the most important rules are the unwritten ones:
You’d also do well to employ a kind of twee, digressive tone, an over-muchness of adjectives, and all the em-dashes and semicolons you can stand, plus two or three more.
Just going by the style of past winners. I love Boyo’s first entry, but it just doesn’t Bulwer on enough.
I was serious when I said I was fermenting an entry. Not quite literally, perhaps, but I haven’t forgotten about it. It’s going to be a real stinker. It will have all those aromatic qualities you describe and more.
