2010 CONTEST RESULTS
For the first month of Ricardo and Felicity's affair, they
greeted one another at every stolen rendezvous with a kiss--a lengthy, ravenous
kiss, Ricardo lapping and sucking at Felicity's mouth as if she were a giant
cage-mounted water bottle and he were the world's thirstiest gerbil.
Molly
Ringle
Seattle, WA
The winner of the 2010 Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest
is Molly
Ringle of Seattle, Washington. The author of one
published and two soon-to-be-published novels, Molly Ringle
only writes bad fiction when she fails at good fiction. She'd rather not say
how often this happens. She lives in Seattle with her family, and her vices
include uncalled-for moments of sarcasm, excessive consumption of Nutella, and an unladylike avidity for the raunchy films of
Mel Brooks
Molly Ringle is the 28th
grand prize winner of the contest that that began at San Jose State University
in 1982. She is also the second consecutive Washingtonian to win the contest, last year’s being David McKenzie.
Runner-Up:
Through the verdant plains of North Umbria walked
Waylon Ogglethorpe and, as he walked, the clouds
whispered his name, the birds of the air sang his praises, and the beasts of
the fields from smallest to greatest said, "There goes the most noble
among men" -- in other words, a typical stroll for a schizophrenic
ventriloquist with delusions of grandeur.
Tom Wallace
Columbia, SC
Winner: Adventure
The blazing equatorial sun beat down on Simon’s head
and shoulders as he dug feverishly in the hot sand with the ivory shoe-horn his
mother had given him before the homecoming game with Taft, when the field was
so wet that he’d lost his low-tops seven times in the cold sucking mud.
Adam McDonough
Reedsburgh, Wi
Runner-Up:
When Hru-Kar, the
alpha-ranking male of the silver-backed gorilla tribe finished unleashing
simian hell on Lt. Cavendish, the once handsome young soldier from Her
Majesty’s 47th Regiment resembled nothing so much as a crumpled up
piece of khaki-colored construction paper that had been dipped in La Victoria
chunky salsa.
Greg Homer
Placerville, CA
Winner: Children’s Literature
“Please Mr. Fox, don’t take your magic back to the
forest, it is needed here in Twigsville!” pleaded
little Isabel, but Mr. Fox was unconcerned as he smugly loped back into the
woods without answering a word knowing well that his magic was only going to be
used to make sure his forest would be annexed into the neighboring community of
Leaftown where the property values were much
higher.
Pete Watkins
Broken Arrow, OK
Winner: Detective
She walked into my office wearing a body that would
make a man write bad checks, but in this paperless age you would first have to
obtain her ABA Routing Transit Number and Account Number and then disable your
own Overdraft Protection in order to do so.
San Marcos, CA
Runner-Up:
As Holmes, who had a nose for danger, quietly fingered
the bloody knife and eyed the various body parts strewn along the dark,
deserted highway, he placed his ear to the ground and, with his heart in his
throat, silently mouthed to his companion, “Arm yourself, Watson, there is an
evil hand afoot ahead.
Dennis Pearce
Lexington, KY
Winner: Fantasy Fiction
The wood nymph fairies blissfully pranced in the
morning light past the glistening dewdrops on the meadow thistles by the Old
Mill, ignorant of the daily slaughter that occurred just behind its
lichen-encrusted walls, twin 20-ton mill stones savagely ripping apart the
husks of wheat seed, gleefully smearing the starchy entrails across their dour
granite faces in unspeakable botanical horror and carnage – but that’s not our
story; ours is about fairies!
Rick Cheeseman
Waconia, MN
Winner: Historical Fiction
In Southwestern Germany just east of the Luxemburg
border and north of France where history pitted various related Hapsburg Royals
against each other and the Archbishops of Trier, the Abbots of St. Maximin, various members of the nobility, and mobs of axe-bearing
villagers, there stands a ruin whose building stones mostly were carted off to
build other buildings.
Mary Ann R Unger
Ewing, NJ
Runner-Up:
The band of pre-humans departed the cave in search of
solace from the omnipresent dangers found there knowing that it meant survival
of their kind, though they probably didn't understand it intellectually since
their brains were so small and undeveloped but fundamentally they understood
that they didn't like big animals that ate them.
Mike Mayfield
Austin, TX
Winner: Purple Prose
The dark, drafty old house was lopsided and decrepit,
leaning in on itself, the way an aging possum carrying a very heavy, overcooked
drumstick in his mouth might list to one side if he were also favoring a torn
Achilles tendon, assuming possums have them.
Scott Davis Jones
Valley Village, CA
Runner-Up:
The wind whispering through the pine trees and the sun
reflecting off the surface of Lake Tahoe like a scattering of diamonds was an
idyllic setting, while to the south the same sun struggled to penetrate a sky
choked with farm dust and car exhaust over Bakersfield, a town spread over the
lower San Joaquin Valley like a brown stain on a wino’s trousers, which is
where, unfortunately, this story takes place.
Dennis Doberneck
Paso Robles, CA
Dishonorable Mentions:
Elaine was a big woman, and in her tiny Smart
car, stakeouts were always hard for her, especially in the August sun
where the humidity made her massive thighs, under her lightweight cotton
dress, stick together like two walruses in heat.
Derek Renfro
Ringgold, GA
The Zinfandel poured pinkly from the bottle, like a
stream of urine seven hours after eating a bowl of borscht.
Alf Seegert
Salt Lake City, UT
Winner: Romance
"Trent, I love you," Fiona murmered, and her nostrils flared at the faint trace of her
lover's masculine scent, sending her heart racing and her mind dreaming of the
life they would live together, alternating sumptuous world cruises with long,
romantic interludes in the mansion on his private island, alone together except
for the maids, the cook, the butler, and Dirk and Rafael, the hard-bodied pool
boys.
Toronto, ON
Runner-Up:
She purred sensually, oozing allure that
was resisted only by his realization as an entomologist that the protein
dust on the couch from the filing of her crimson nails was now being devoured
by dust mites in a clicking, ferocious, ecstatic frenzy.
Jonathan Blay
Bedford, Canada
Dishonorable Mention:
Cynthia had washed her hands of Philip McIntyre - not
like you wash your hands in a public restroom when everyone is watching you to
see if you washed your hands but like washing your hands after you have been
working in the garden and there is dirt under your fingernails -- dirt like
Philip McIntyre.
Linda Boatright
Omaha, NE
Winner: Science Fiction
t'Bleen and Golxxm
squelched their way romantically along the slough beach beneath the three Sommodian moons, their eye-stalks occasionally touching,
and tenderly belched sweet nothings like, "I don't think I've ever had
such a charming evening," and, "Say, would you like to gnaw that hunk
of suppurating tissue off my dorsal appendage—it really itches."
Bryan Olive
Tustin, CA
Winner: Vile Puns
It was a risky production unlike any mounted prior on
the Met stage, the orchestra first imitating the perpetually beating heart of a
man walled-in while in pursuit of wine , and then a soprano singing the plaintive
aria of a barely alive woman stuffed up a chimney as her ancestral home was
destroyed; however, it certainly was Opera Poe.
Amy Torchinsky
Greensboro NC
Runner-Up:
As Jeffrey Hicks, the event safety coordinator for the
Renaissance Festival finished posting the revised standards for weaponry, he
thought of the day an unleashed dog wandered onto the jousting field, causing
the rider from Indianapolis to stop short, impaling himself on the butt of his
spear, and the following day’s newspaper headline which read: “Stray Injures
Indy Knight, Hicks Changing Lances.”
Brad Taylor
Iowa City, IA
Dishonorable Mention:
Wearing his new slacks from L.L. Bean, and entering
the pen to feed his three big dogs their usual three cans of dog food, some of
which ended up on his new pants, Kevin then left the house to attend a revival
screening of ‘Serpico’ with Alpo chinos.
Greg Homer
Placerville, CA
Winner: Western
He walked into the bar and bristled when all eyes
fell upon him -- perhaps because his build was so short and
so wide, or maybe it was the odor that lingered about him from
so many days and nights spent in the wilds, but it may just have been because
no one had ever seen a porcupine in a bar before.
Linda Boatright
Omaha, NE
Miscellaneous Dishonorable Mentions:
His chest glistened like a pumpkin seed, either one
fresh out of the pumpkin but with all the orange strands of pumpkin flesh
removed, or one straight out of the oven after being coated in just the right
amount of oil and then baked; the point is that it was smooth, fairly shiny,
and that color.
Jesse Kolman
Phoenix, AZ
The life-saving salve had not arrived to help Dr.
Sybil Carter dress the mutant killer bee wounds because landslides blocked
roads, the rivers were jammed by earthquake debris, and even the jungle foot
paths were clogged with dead bees and their victims, yet without the medicinal
unguent, many more would die, so reluctantly giving in to her promise never
again to speak to her aviator ex-boyfriend, she picked up the radio and begged
him to fly in the ointment.
David K. Lynch
Topanga, CA
Faintly silhouetted against the shadowy murk of a
nameless Devonian sea, the Megalodont shark was
unaware of trilobites foraging in the primordial ooze not far below, trilobites
that unlike the shark’s cartilaginous being would become part of the fossil
record of an ancient seabed that would in time heave up, dry out and go through
the crusher at the Marulan Cement Works somewhere
north of Sydney,
Australia.
John Mackesy
Victoria, Australia
Leaning back comfortably in a plush old chair, feet
up, fingers laced behind his head, Tom Chambers inventoried his life and with a
satisfied grin mused, “Ah, marlin fishing off the coast of Majorca, a bronze
star for that rescue mission in Jamir, the unmatched
fragrance of pastries fresh out of the oven at Café Legrande,
two sons who would make any father proud . . . I’ve never done any of
that.”
Ernie Santilli
Drexel Hill PA
Living next door to the Lesters
for nearly twelve years now, Mrs. Nestor, fully aware of her husband’s fondness
for pulchritudinous posteriors, was unable to deter Chester Nestor’s constant
quest for Mr. Lester’s sister Hester’s monster keister.
Jeff Flegel
Racine, WI
As Ethel arranged the list of company phone numbers
under her clear plastic desk cover, perfectly aligning the lower right corner
of the list with the lower right corner of the plastic, then swiveled her chair
to file one more inter-office memorandum on trimming the budget, she considered
how different her life might have been if her parents had named her
Tiffany.
Judy Fischer
Prospect, KY
As the under-appreciated autumn evening faded into yet
another soft black velvet fall night, all creatures large and small had settled
in except for one, Loupy, the Schipperke, whose job
was to keep Anatoly, the night watchman, informed of all things pertaining to
the property with her signature uninterrupted warning barks which at this very
moment would not subside until her master explained, "We don't know anyone
named Timmy and we don't have a
well."
Karen Arutunoff
Tulsa, Oklahoma
"You ask me, ‘Why did you do it, Charlie, I
could've been a contender?’ -- I'll tell you why: you worked your fights in too
close, taking blow after unnecessary blow; I knew you were going to end up punchdrunk and need money for a nurse, and you were never a
contender, you were only a referee."
Charles Alworth
Port Aransas, TX
After launching the last brown lump of chewing tobacco
from his bulbous and stained lower lip to its new landing on the Main Street
pavement below, Billy Bob couldn’t believe that what lay before him, was a
spitting image of George Washington.
Heidi Vazquez
Bellevue, NE
Oneida Revere picked at her meal and stared dully
across the table at the charismatic charlatan who had seduced her with the
illusion of love and tarnished her family's sterling reputation; she was wise
to his bent mind games and though it felt like a knife through her heart, she
knew it was time to stick a fork in it and call it done - her days of spooning
with Uri Geller were over.
Terri Daniel (Seattle, WA) and Craig Rieger (Concord, CA)
Seattle, WA
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Copyright 1997-2010 Scott
Rice
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED