Teachers from across the country submit their collections of entries
done for the student version of the Bulwer-Lytton Bad Writing Contest which included analogies and metaphors as well as opening lines. These excerpts are published each year to the amusement of teachers across the U.S.
done for the student version of the Bulwer-Lytton Bad Writing Contest which included analogies and metaphors as well as opening lines. These excerpts are published each year to the amusement of teachers across the U.S.
His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances
like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.
like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.
He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it.
She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog
makes just before it throws up.
Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.
He was as tall as a six-foot, three-inch tree.
The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn’t.
McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty bag
filled with vegetable soup.
filled with vegetable soup.
From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an
eerie, surreal quality, like when you’re on vacation in another city and Jeopardy comes on at 7:00 p.m. instead of 7:30.
eerie, surreal quality, like when you’re on vacation in another city and Jeopardy comes on at 7:00 p.m. instead of 7:30.
Her hair glistened in the rain like nose hair after a sneeze.
The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when
you fry them in hot grease.
you fry them in hot grease.
Even in his last years, Granddad had a mind like a steel trap, only one that had been left out so long, it had rusted shut.
Shots rang out, as shots are wont to do.
The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work.
The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not
eating for a while.
eating for a while.
He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck, either,
but a real duck that was actually lame, maybe from stepping on a land mine or something.
but a real duck that was actually lame, maybe from stepping on a land mine or something.
The ballerina rose gracefully en Pointe and extended one slender
leg behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.
leg behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.
It was an American tradition, like fathers chasing kids around
with power tools.
with power tools.
