The Lyttle Lytton Contest
Also, the Lyttle Lytton Contest now has a page on Facebook. Go
check it out if you're into that sort of thing.
2012
To avoid the annual problem of people sending in entries long after the
contest has finished, I've decided to just accept entries year-round.
This means that the 2012 contest is already underway. See the rules
below. (New rules for 2012 are in red.)
About Lyttle Lytton
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The annual Bulwer-Lytton Fiction
Contest challenges entrants to pen the world's most atrocious first
line to a novel. Winners — and, for that matter, runners-up
and honorable mentions — are generally very long. An example
from the 2000 contest, singled out by the contest organizer as an
especially strong contender:
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Gwendolyn, a world-class mountaineer, summoned the last of her
strength for one more heroic haul on the nylon strap (for she was,
after so many failed attempts, dangerously close to exhaustion)
and looked heavenward with resolve, aware that, in spite of her
fatigue and anguish, she must breach the crevice in one
well-coordinated movement, somehow cleave the smooth fissure with
the flimsy synthetic strand even though she was chaffed raw by her
repeated efforts, or more sensibly, just give the heave-ho to this
new-fangled (and painfully small) Victoria's Secret thong and slip
into her well-worn — and infinitely more roomy —
knickers.
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Gary Dahl
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I say, bleah. Brevity is the soul of wit, and this goes on and on and on.
I prefer the likes of this:
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Jennifer stood there, quietly ovulating.
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Adam Cadre
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The non-action of "stood," the vagueness of "there," the involuntary
process of ovulation treated as an activity, the inappropriateness of
measuring the volume of that non-activity, the uncomfortably
gynecological detail of mentioning it at all — all combine
to make a cringeworthy sentence. And since it's only five words long,
its impact is instant; you don't have readers slogging through clause
after clause after clause. So in 2001 I started a contest much like
the Bulwer-Lytton, only with entrants limited to 25 words.
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The Rules
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(new rules for 2012 in red)
Your task is to write the beginning of an imaginary novel. Your goal
is to make it hilariously bad. Note that wacky situations and
intentional jokes are more suited to the beginnings of good comedic
novels, not bad serious ones, and are therefore not really what this
contest is about. On the flip side, significant butchering of the
language (as opposed to subtle butchering) isn't all that funny either.
See the archives linked above to get the feel for what sort of thing
tends to win.
You need not limit an entry to one sentence, and you can even enter more
than once. However, the maximum length of all your entries combined
is 200 characters. If the combined number
of characters you enter is over 200, all
your entries are subject to disqualification. Also, please note that
brevity is one of the chief aims of this contest, so entries that
fall well short of the limit are likely to do better than those that bump
up against it.
Your entry (or entries) may be original or may quote another source; if
it quotes another source, you must state the source. Separate winners
will be selected from among the original entries and from those that
quote other sources.
A few tips:
- One common fault with Lyttle Lytton submissions over the years has
been that while a sentence may be funny, if it doesn't sound like the
first sentence of a novel, it's not really appropriate. So please
make sure that your entry actually sounds like it could be the
beginning of a book.
- Again, please read the pages of previous winners (linked above) to
get a sense of the sort of badness this contest is looking for.
Gross-out humor tends to do poorly, not so much because it's offensive
as because it's generally not funny. Neither is basic incompetence in
spelling and grammar. Neither are puns. (But there are always
exceptions...)
- On the flip side, while "bad but not funny" isn't what this
contest is about, neither is "funny but not bad." If you've written
an entry that falls into the latter category, don't submit
it — keep going and get it published!
Entries should be submitted using the form
below. You must submit your name and a working email address. If you
don't want your name published along with your entry, click the "don't
publish" box. No pseudonyms, please. I will accept entries up
to but not after 2012 April 15 at noon,
Pacific Time. The winning entries (or winning portions of longer entries)
and any honorable mentions will be linked to this page shortly thereafter.
Finally, the usual fine print regarding word count:
- Contractions count as one word. "Don't" is one word; so is
"I'd've."
- You get one free hyphen per word. "Horse-piercing" counts as one
word. "Non-horse-piercing" counts as two. "The cat gave me that
hey-don't-look-at-me-pal-I'm-not-the-one-who-hasn't-changed-the-litter-in-a-month
look" counts as 23 words, not seven.
- Punctuation doesn't count as a word so long as it's being used as
punctuation and not as a lexical element. "Whoa — check it
out" counts as four words, not five. But "'I'm changing my name to
@#%#@,' Prince said" counts as eight words, not seven.
- Initialisms count as one word. I'm not going to charge you three
words for "NFL" or "OMG".
Good luck!
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Entry form
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