Jul. 4, 2009
As Oedipus watched his mother gracefully glide across the great hall, he felt a stirring in his loins which he immediately regretted but then quickly dismissed, for he knew if these wanton desires for his mother were wrong then someone would have named the condition by now, thus proving once again that where his emotions were concerned there was only one description for Oedipus … complex.
—
One of the many outstanding finalists in this year’s Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest, which encourages writers to submit the worst possible opening sentence for a novel.
Incidentally, here was my entry:
“As he prepared to disembark the jet and reclaim his fortune, Ratacek smoothed the velvet blazer that concealed in its pockets a small pistol, a half-eaten sandwich, and the tiny bottle of airline rum he had swallowed in one churlish gulp before loving that stewardess straight to hell.”
