Words, A Garden Of Flowers Or A Patch of Weeds? by Heather Haven

Every time I start a new book, I wonder how my words and ideas will come together. Expressing myself sometimes can be tough. Can I do it? Because, let’s face it, it’s more than stringing a lot of pretty words together. Can I find the right ones to tantalize the reader into staying with me ‘til the end of the book? Or will the words and ideas become a mish-mash?

Remember Snoopy in the Peanuts comics? He used to sit on top of his doghouse and bang on a typewriter, writing the words, “It was a dark and stormy night…” Snoopy stole that line from Edward Bulwer-Lytton’s 1830 novel, Paul Clifford. “It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents—except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind that swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies), rattling along the housetops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness.” Mr. Bulwer-Lytton himself stole it from the journal of the Doddington shipwreck that was published in 1757. Although Snoopy claims his great, great to the 15th power grandfather, Basil MacDoggal, was the originator of those words, written when he was aboard the Doddington as a mere pup. What it shows is you can’t keep a good sentence down.

What that sentence led to was a worldwide contest, the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest, where writers would write marathon run-on sentences for the pure joy of doing so. And the tradition was carried on until the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest hung up its pen in 2025 after 42 years. Here is just a sampling of the yearly winners:

“On reflection, Angela perceived that her relationship with Tom had always been rocky, not quite a roller-coaster ride but more like when the toilet-paper roll gets a little squashed so it hangs crooked and every time you pull some off you can hear the rest going bumpity-bumpity in its holder until you go nuts and push it back into shape, a degree of annoyance that Angela had now almost attained.” — Rephah Berg, Oakland, CA

“The corpse exuded the irresistible aroma of a piquant, ancho chili glaze enticingly enhanced with a hint of fresh cilantro as it lay before him, coyly garnished by a garland of variegated radicchio and caramelized onions, and impishly drizzled with glistening rivulets of vintage balsamic vinegar and roasted garlic oil; yes, as he surveyed the body of the slain food critic slumped on the floor of the cozy, but nearly empty, bistro, a quick inventory of his senses told corpulent Inspector Moreau that this was, in all likelihood, an inside job.” — Bob Perry, Milton, MA

I’ve read a few books, particularly by novice writers with similar opening sentences, but I suspect they weren’t thinking of the contest when they wrote them. I may have mentioned this before, but one newbie went on about a building for an entire paragraph. This building had nothing to do with the plot and was never mentioned again. A paragraph is a long time to wax poetic about anything non-germane to the story, especially on page 1. However, as it had only been one sentence, he could have submitted it to the B-L contest and just might have won. I like to look on the bright side of bad writing.

Hmmmm. I wonder if I can write one of those danged sentences? How about: “It was a dark and stormy morning with drafts swirling around like clothes in the rinse cycle of a washing machine, white clothes, bleached within an inch of their lives because that’s what you do with white clothes, bleach them, even though it weakens the integrity of the fabric, especially cotton, and cotton-linen blends, and can turn them yellow, not blue the way bluing does.”

What do you think?