It Is That Time Of The Year Again,

when writers do not want to see the opening lines of their book ridiculed in print,

except in this contest, the official deadline is April 15, but the actual deadline is June 30, to win the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest and receive a pittance you must write the worst opening sentence to a novel in one of several categories, for instance here are a couple of this year’s winners,

Dishonourable Mentions, Crime/Detective:

As he gazed at Ming's lifeless body draped over the sushi bar, chopsticks protruding from his back, Det. Herc Lue Perrot came to the sobering realisation that tonight, there had been a murder at the Orient Express. Andrew Caruso, Akron, OH.

in Children’s Literature, the winner:

when your home smells like a three-week-old buffalo carcass, your Mom is constantly being mistaken for a guy, and your sisters keep using your ears as their personal chew toys, life is no laughing matter at least that's how it seemed to Hubert, the baby Hyena. Anna McDougald, Winnipeg, Manitoba.

You get the idea, Winner, Historical Fiction:

with his lamp giving off a dull yellow glow General Washington sat up late into the night contemplating his problems: Not enough food, not enough clothing, not enough men, and that idiot Private Doodle who kept putting feathers in his cap and calling it macaroni. Dan Leyde, Shoreline, WA.

 for more of these terrible opening lines grab a coffee and have a look here.