Bullet Points: Tariffs-Free Edition

• Who should be the next cinematic Bond? With Daniel Craig having departed the role of James Bond following 2021’s No Time to Die, speculation on which actor might next play Ian Fleming’s famous British superspy has revolved at various times around Henry Cavill, Tom Hardy, Idris Elba, Jack Lowden, and even 21-year-old Louis Partridge. CrimeReads’ Olivia Rutigliano has her own suggestion: “Joshua Bowman, the charming English actor who played Krasko on Doctor Who, and Daniel Grayson on ABC’s Revenge.” While I’m not yet on board with Bowman as Agent 007, I heartily endorse her idea that the next movie should be set in the 1950s, pre-Sean Connery. Remember that the ending of No Time to Die makes it pretty ridiculous to resurrect that protagonist for further feats in the 2020s. So why not return Bond to his roots, at the height of the Cold War? “It could be an origination story of the character,” writes Rutigliano, “rather like how Craig’s era rebooted the franchise with Casino Royale and used the Vesper Lynd love story as a consistent anchor for Bond’s choices, across multiple films. This could do something like that, with a nostalgic temporal re-contextualization that could stand out in a franchise that has historically insisted on contemporaneity.” Hey, everyone over at Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Studios and Amazon (which now owns the intellectual property rights to Bond), are you listening?

• Meanwhile, The Spy Command’s Bill Koenig notes that “This year marks the 60th anniversary of Thunderball, the fourth Bond film and the apex of the 1960s spy craze.” He also alerts us to a Bond fan event, Gatherall at Goldeneye, set to take place in Jamaica this coming fall, and mentions that a new, expanded edition of Joseph Darlington’s 2013 book, Being James Bond: Volume One, is coming in August—though there’s not yet an Amazon “pre-order” link to share.

• Do you know the retro film and TV Web site Modcinema? I’ve ordered low-cost, made-on-demand DVD copies of forgotten small-screen features from that enterprise before, but its latest newsletter alerts me to a wealth of new offerings. Among them: the 1972 teleflick Assignment: Munich, which spawned Robert Conrad’s short-lived show Assignment: Vienna; a three-disc set containing all five episodes of the 1978 series Richie Brockelman, Private Eye starring Dennis Dugan; three episodes (including the pilot) of Cool Million, the James Farentino series that was one spoke of the NBC Wednesday Mystery Movie “wheel series” (two additional eps can be found in this set); and Fame Is the Name of the Game, the 1966 made-for-television picture starring Tony Franciosa, which “served as the pilot episode of the subsequent series The Name of the Game.”

• As a longtime follower of Peter Falk’s NBC Mystery Movie series, I’m surprised this February release didn’t hit my radar before now: Columbo Explains the Seventies: A TV Cop’s Pop Culture Journey, by Glenn Stewart (Bonaventure Press). UPDATE: Stewart tells The Columbophile about what inspired him to write this book.

• My suspicion is there aren’t many people around these days boasting solid memories of the 1980 ABC-TV action series B.A.D. Cats. As Wikipedia recalls, that Douglas S. Cramer/Aaron Spelling production starred Asher Brauner and Steve Hanks as “two former race car drivers who joined the Los Angeles Police Department as part of the ‘B.A.D. C.A.T.’ Squad (a double acronym for ‘Burglary Auto Detail–Commercial Auto Theft’).” Then 21-year-old Michelle Pfeiffer appeared on the program too, playing Officer Samantha “Sunshine” Jensen, who “would occasionally lend a hand when a more feminine approach was called for.” B.A.D. Cats didn’t last long; it was cancelled in February 1980 after a pilot (which you can view here) and five other episodes had been broadcast. But as Vintage Everyday observes, the show was an important stepping stone on Pfeiffer’s path to Hollywood renown. A few days ago, that blog posted almost four dozen promotional photos of her from B.A.D. Cats, which it says demonstrated “Pfeiffer’s youthful charm and emerging star quality.” The actress would go on to play a different breed of bad cat in Batman Returns (1992).

• While I greatly enjoyed Netflix’s first two Enola Holmes movies (in 2020 and 2022), based on the middle-reader mysteries by Nancy Springer, I forgot there was to be another. Variety brings the news that its production is already well underway. “The third instalment,” that publication explains, “sees adventure chase Enola Holmes to Malta, where, according to the description, ‘personal and professional dreams collide on a case more tangled and treacherous than any she has faced before.’” As in the previous pictures, Millie Bobby Brown will play Sherlock Holmes’ teenage sister. There’s no release date yet.

• This item comes from In Reference to Murder:

Wallander, the globally acclaimed Swedish detective drama, is getting “a modernized and reimagined reboot” with Gustaf Skarsgård (Oppenheimer, Vikings) playing the iconic role. The first season of the new Swedish-language adaptation will comprise three 90-minute films and will see Kurt Wallander, now 42, recently separated, after two decades of marriage, and estranged from his daughter. On the edge as his life seemingly unravels, Wallander drinks too much, sleeps too little, and carries the weight of every unsolved case.

Penned by bestselling author Henning Mankell, the Wallander novels have sold over 40 million copies and been translated into more than 40 languages. The original Swedish series and film adaptations, which aired between 1994 and 2013, garnered wide international success and were followed by a British mini-series adaptation starring Kenneth Branagh that earned him a BAFTA for his portrayal of the detective.

• Sunday, June 15, will bring the return of Grantchester to PBS-TV’s Masterpiece Mystery! timeslot. Mystery Fanfare has the trailer for Season 10 of that historical whodunit.

• As Saturday Evening Post columnist Bob Sassone writes, “Dragnet’s Officer Bill Gannon (Harry Morgan) was known for the food he ate, which often confused and worried his partner Joe Friday (Jack Webb). Barry Enderwick of the terrific Sandwiches of History decided to try it, at the suggestion of many of his fans.” Watch the video here.

• The small-screen period crime drama Peaky Blinders is coming back! So are the rebooted Bergerac and the Death in Paradise spin-off Return to Paradise (even though I haven’t seen either of their opening seasons yet). And Acorn TV has scheduled the two-episode premiere, on Monday, June 9, of Art Detectives, which “revolves around the Heritage Crime Unit, a [UK] police department hired to solve murders connected to the world of art and antiques.”

• I was a huge fan of Leverage, the 2008-2012 TNT-TV crime caper series starring Timothy Hutton, Gina Bellman, Aldis Hodge, Christian Kane, and Beth Riesgraf. I must have watched every episode four times or more! Yet when that show was revived in 2021 as Leverage: Redemption, with Noah Wyle replacing Hutton, I hesitated tuning in, partly because I wasn’t sure I could believe the “gang” being a decade older and still as active. I think I’ve seen only two episodes of Redemption, and I completely missed the news that it had been renewed for a third season. The first three of 10 new installments aired on April 17, with more to come every Thursday through June 5. I guess it’s time I started catching up! See the trailer below.



• The Web site Geek Girl Authority (yeah, I’d never heard of it until today either) features a review of Leverage: Redemption, Season 3, plus this tribute to my favorite Leverage team member, Riesgraf’s prodigiously eccentric Parker, “truly the world’s greatest thief.”

• Speaking of TV trailers, CrimeReads has posted one for Season 2 of Poker Face, the crime comedy-drama starring Natasha Lyonne as Charlie Cale, “a casino worker on the run who entangles herself into several mysterious deaths of strangers along the way.” That show will return to the streaming service Peacock on Thursday, May 8, with 12 new episodes (two more than were broadcast in 2023).

• And while you are at CrimeReads, enjoy these three other posts that went up there recently: Patrick Sauer’s salute to Tony Rome, the South Florida gumshoe introduced in 1960’s Miami Mayhem by Marvin H. Albert, and a character Frank Sinatra played in a couple of “groovy” films; Christopher Chambers’ case for reading F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby (which celebrated its 100th anniversary earlier this month) as noir; and Scott Montgomery’s look back at the first quarter-century of Stark House Press’ efforts to return to print many hard-boiled authors and novels from the 1950s and ’60s.

• Thomas Pynchon has a new private-eye novel coming in October!

• National Public Radio weekend host Scott Simon interviews film historian Jason Bailey about his brand-new biography, Gandolfini: Jim, Tony and the Life of a Legend (Abrams Press). That book is being promoted as “a detailed and nuanced appraisal of an enduring artist,” Jim Gandolfini, who was apparently quite different from the New Jersey Mafia boss he played on HBO’s The Sopranos.

• Why can’t the United States have nice things like this? The British Writers’ Association and the Reading Agency, a UK charity, have jointly organized National Crime Reading Month (NCRM) in June. “This year,” says a press release, “it opens with an exclusive online panel, The Lives of Crime, featuring bestselling crime authors. On 4 June at 6 p.m., the CWA chair and bestselling author, Vaseem Khan, will host authors Fiona Cummins, Adele Parks, and Penny Batchelor in the free online panel event.” They’ll be talking about “the genre’s universal appeal—from psychological thrillers to cozy mysteries—and how it creates accessible pathways to reading for audiences who might otherwise never discover the joy of books.” (Click here to register.) Beyond that presentation, NCRM will offer “over a hundred local author events and talks that run throughout June across the UK and Ireland, which take place in libraries, theatres, bookshops and online.” A page devoted to keeping track of NCRM events is available at this link.

• I am way behind in reading Paperback Warrior’s occasional “primers” on vintage crime novelists and pulp-fiction characters. The latest entry in that series recalls Kendell Foster Crossen (1910-1981), who “wrote crime-fiction novels under the name of M.E. Chaber, a pseudonym he used to construct the wildly successful Milo March series from the mid-1950s through the 1970s.” Fun stuff! UPDATE: Another such primer has just “gone live,” this one relating the background of Charles Williams, who “authored 22 books and was one of the best-selling writers in the Fawcett Gold Medal stable.”

• Historical mystery novelist Jeri Westerson used to produce a blog called Getting Medieval, offering interviews and articles—only to suddenly delete that journal from the Web, leaving links at other sites broken. She says now that “it was too much work and social media was rising.” Recently, though, Westerson decided to return to blogging. She has subsequently posted several author exchanges of interest. Gary Phillips, James R. Benn, and Rebecca Cantrell have all fielded questions from her. I hesitate slightly to link to these conversations, leery of their also disappearing someday, but transience is unfortunately a Web foible.

• Is this creative or creepy? From The Hollywood Reporter:

BBC Studios, the commercial arm of British broadcaster BBC, and the Agatha Christie estate have teamed up to launch a writing course on education-focused streaming service BBC Maestro taught by Christie herself. Well, to be precise, it is taught by the queen of crime, brought to life by actress Vivien Keene and AI, using the author’s own words.

“In a world first, Agatha Christie—best-selling novelist of all time—will be offering aspiring writers an unparalleled opportunity to learn the secrets behind her writing, in her own words,’ the partners said. ‘Using meticulously restored archival interviews, private letters and writings researched by a team of Christie experts, this pioneering course reconstructs Christie’s own voice and insights, guiding you through the art of suspense, plot twists and unforgettable characters.”

James Prichard, Christie’s great-grandson and the CEO of Agatha Christie Limited, is quoted in The Guardian as saying that the educators and researchers behind this subscription-based video series “extracted from a number of her writings an extraordinary array of her views and opinions on how to write. Through this course, you truly will receive a lesson in crafting a masterful mystery, in Agatha’s very own words.” OK, maybe it’s creative, after all.

• I have given precisely zero thought to what might be the “best crime novels of 2025 … so far.” However, both The Times of London and The Week have already shared their favorites.

• Over at my Killer Covers blog, I’ve written a great deal about the American artist Robert McGinnis this year, both prior to his demise in March (at age 99!), and after. But author Max Allan Collins had his own memories to share, in this post that talks about how he scored an unusual number of McGinnis’ paintings for use on his novels about the hired killer known only as Quarry.

• Can we ever get enough of Belgian author Georges Simenon’s Jules Maigret mysteries? Penguin Books has been publishing paperback versions of them over the last decade, and has brand-new editions set to become available beginning in July. And now the U.S. imprint Picador is joining in the game, launching its own Maigret lineup this month. Over the next three years, Picador says, it too will reissue all 75 Maigrets, plus “thirty of his darker standalone ‘romans durs’ beginning March 2026.” Pietr the Latvian will reach stores on May 6, together with The Late Monsieur Gallet and The Hanged Man of Saint-Pholien, all of which originally saw print back in 1931. It may be time to clear some space on your bookshelves!

• This is a terrible loss—at least from my perspective. The annual Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest, which celebrated appallingly bad initial sentences to (fortunately) never-to-be-completed books, is no more. Scott Rice, who, as an English professor at California’s San Jose State University, founded the competition in 1982, says he finds it “becoming increasingly burdensome and [I] would like to put myself out to pasture while I still have some vim and vigor!” The Rap Sheet has posted many of the winners over time, and we’re sorry not to be able to keep up that tradition for decades more to come.

• California author J. Sydney Jones produced half a dozen books in his Viennese Mysteries series, beginning with The Empty Mirror (2008) and ending—it was presumed—with The Third Place (2015). They were complicated and propulsive stories of crime in the Austrian capital that took place during the very early 20th century, had as their leads lawyer Karl Werthen and real-life criminologist Doktor Hanns Gross, and seemed to fare well in the marketplace. However, Jones writes in his blog, “The original series stopped after book six. I had originally planned it for another three to four installments. But other projects came up, other publishers.” The author nonetheless returned to that series during the COVID-19 pandemic, penning a “capstone” titled Lilacs of the Dead Land, which he published in February of this year—a novel that somehow managed to avoid my radar. He calls it “a stirring historical thriller set in Austria shortly after the German annexation, or Anschluss, of March 1938.” As one who very much appreciated his Viennese Mysteries, I’ll want to find a copy soon.

• It should be mentioned that one of those “other projects” Jones embarked upon was a new crime series, set on California’s central coast during World War II and adopting as its protagonist a wounded former New York City police detective, Max Byrns. The second Byrns book, Play It in Between (Werthen Press), debuted in April.

• April 17 brought the presentation, at New York City’s New School, of the 37th annual Publishing Triangle Awards celebrating “LGBTQ+ literary excellence.” During that event, Massachusetts author and creative writing professor Margot Douaihy was given the Joseph Hansen Award for LGBTQ+ Crime Writing for her second Sister Holiday novel, 2024’s Blessed Water (Zando/Gillian Flynn Books). Hansen, you will remember, penned a dozen novels in the late 20th century starring gay death claims investigator Dave Brandstetter.

• Just as “authors hitting the best seller list are approaching gender equality for the first time,” a new independent press in Great Britain proposes to center its business on male writers. Reporting on this development, Lit Hub’s James Folta acknowledges that “female authorship is on the rise, especially recently,” but he adds, “to conclude that men therefore need an urgent champion seems naïve and near-sighted. To look at this trend or, perhaps more accurately, to feel the vibes and conclude that male authors are in danger is pushing it. Male authors going from 80% to 50% of the market is far from a crisis in need of another intervening corrective.”

• And here’s one more instance of a blog rising from the dead. The Stiletto Gumshoe debuted back in November 2018, focusing on crime and mystery fiction and the artwork associated with same. But it went dormant just two years later, with its author, C.J. Thomas, apologizing that “some troubling ‘real-life’ issues need to be wrestled with right now, so there’ll be a break from blogging here for a while. Hope to be back soon …” Soon was not soon at all. When The Stiletto Gumshoe finally disappeared altogether from the Internet (forcing me to substitute links to its posts from The Wayback Machine), I struck it from this page’s lengthy blogroll, too. Then, just as abruptly as it was gone, Thomas’ creation returned! This last April 23, Thomas put up a tribute to Sergeant DeeDee McCall, the role Stepfanie Kramer played in the 1980s TV crime drama Hunter. He has followed that with posts about the 1950 film noir Where Danger Lives, J. Robert Lennon’s new Buzz Kill, French 1980s print ads from DIM Paris, and much more. Welcome back, C.J., I hope you can stick around this time.

Clever Claptrap

Every year since 2011 (and less consistently before then), I have reported on the winners of the annual Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest, a whimsical competition that glorifies terrifyingly bad opening sentences to (fortunately) never-to-be-completed books. However, the latest prize results—announced in August—passed me by completely.
So here I am with egg on my face, bringing you some of my favorites from among the 2024 victors in various tournament categories:

“She was poured into the red latex dress like Jello poured into a balloon, almost bursting at the seams, and her zaftig shape was awesome to behold, but I knew from the look on her face and the .45 she held pointing at me, that this was no standard client of my detective agency, but a new collection agency tactic to get me to pay my long-overdue phone bill.” — Jack Harnly, Sarasota, Florida (Winner, Crime & Detective division)

“Staring unblinkingly into the pleading, tear-filled eyes of yet another dame looking for me to solve all her problems, I sighed, stretched, scratched my whiskers, stuck my hind leg in the air and bent my spine at a 45-degree angle to reach down and lick my butt clean, then donned my fedora — Taco, Cat Detective, was officially on the case.” — Gwen Simonalle, Grenoble, France (Dishonorable Mention, Crime & Detective)<

“He was an old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream, and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish, but as fish tend to live in the sea rather than in a skiff, he really had only himself to blame.” — Sam Wallington, London, England (Dishonorable Mention, Adventure)

“‘I do enjoy turning a prophet,’ said Torquemada, as he roasted the heretic seer on a spit.” — A.R. Templeton, Stratford, Canada (Winner, Vile Puns)

This year’s Grand Prize was given to Lawrence Person of Austin, Texas, for his splendidly vivid submission:

She had a body that reached out and slapped my face like a five-pound ham-hock tossed from a speeding truck.

And the Grand Panjandrum's Special Award went to Joel Phillips of West Trenton, New Jersey, for the following:

Mrs. Higgins’ body was found in the pantry, bludgeoned with a potato ricer and lying atop a fifty-pound sack of Yukon golds, her favorite for making gnocchi, though some people consider them too moist for this purpose.

Named in dubious honor of Edward George Earle Bulwer-Lytton (1803-1873), whose 1830 novel, Paul Clifford, began with the phrase, “It was a dark and stormy night,” this contest has been sponsored by the English Department at California’s San Jose State University ever since 1982. You can read all of the 2024 winners here.

Bad Prose Inspires Good Chuckles

Every year I think what fun it would be to submit a kernel of corny creative writing to the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest, but I have never actually done so. Although I haven’t given up hope of entering. Someday. Maybe. If I’m in the proper playful mood.

This tongue-in-cheek competition was launched in 1982 and is sponsored by the English Department of San Jose State University in San Jose, California. As Wikipedia explains, it takes its moniker from “English novelist and playwright Edward George Bulwer-Lytton, author of the much-quoted first line ‘It was a dark and stormy night,’” Entrants are encouraged to submit especially cringe-worthy opening lines (single sentences only) to never-to-be-completed books. The competition’s renown has grown greatly over the decades.

There were reportedly more than 600 entries to the 2023 contest in a dozen categories, from Adventure and Fantasy & Horror to Science Fiction and Purple Prose. The Grand Prize was captured by Maya Pasic of New York City for this cosmetological curiosity:

She was a beautiful woman; more specifically she was the kind of beautiful woman who had an hourlong skincare routine that made her look either ethereal or like a glazed donut, depending on how attracted to her you were.

Meanwhile, the Grand Panjandrum’s Special Award went to Daniel Bradford of Lexington, Kentucky, for an opening that might have been plucked from a comic crime novel:

It was a sunny day in Los Angeles, hot and bright, and I was in my office, playing Mahjong against myself and losing, when she walked in, 120 pounds of dynamite, a blonde with legs that began at her ankles and ended in trouble.

Of interest to Rap Sheet readers as well should be this winner in the Crime & Detective division, from Atlanta resident Julian Calvin:

The tall, slender seductress had Tom Pauley wrapped around her little finger, and she had James McGee hanging from a necklace, but the police were still waiting for the lab results to determine whose body parts she had used to make her earrings and that stunning tennis bracelet.

These two other “dishonorable mentions” from the same category struck decisive blows against my funny bone:

Elsie was seated by the window overlooking the deserted boardwalk (the crime scene in this saga) holding the hand of her beloved Jeremy (the soon-to-be unwitting accomplice), when George (who you will soon learn is the murderer), suddenly opened the door to their cozy loft holding a cup of coffee and said, “This cup is for you, Elsie”—and this cup would of course be her last … but you do not know any of this yet. — Frederick Ankowski, Santa Monica, California

Officer Meyer Briggs burst into the bedroom and saw Professor Rorschach standing over the body of his mother, bloody knife in hand, “I swear it’s not what it looks like!” Rorschach exclaimed. — Justin C. McCarthy, Cranston, Rhode Island

Click right here to read all of this year’s winners and runners-up. And if you’re interested, the rules for entering this contest can be found here. The next submission deadline is June 30, 2024.

Bragging Rights for Florid Prose

Has it really been 17 years now since I began recording the annual winners of the whimsical Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest? It just goes to show much entertainment I derive from that labor. As you’ll recall, this competition has been sponsored since 1982 by the English Department at California’s San Jose State University, and applauds particularly awful opening sentences to (fortunately) never-to-be-completed books. How can you not love such an erudite endeavor?

According to the contest’s home page, there were 5,000 entries this year, in 12 categories. The Grand Prize winner was Aurora, Colorado’s John Farmer, who submitted a most appetizing lead-in:

I knew she was trouble the second she walked into my 24-hour deli, laundromat, and detective agency, and after dropping a load of unmentionables in one of the heavy-duty machines (a mistake that would soon turn deadly) she turned to me, asking for two things: find her missing husband and make her a salami on rye with spicy mustard, breaking into tears when I told her I couldn’t help—I was fresh out of salami.

Since this is a mystery-fiction blog, let’s move right along to the Crime & Detective section. Top-most honors here go to Jim Anderson of Flushing, Michigan, for the following nostalgic bit:

The detectives wore booties, body suits, hair nets, masks and gloves and longed for the good old days when they could poke a corpse with the toes of their wingtips if they damn well felt like it.

However, I’m more fond of Brunswick, Maine, resident Doug Self’s entry, which scored Dishonorable Mention honors:

As detective Harry Bolton knelt down looking at the fifth murdered prostitute in as many weeks, he thought his was a cold cruel city and that maybe he should have taken that job in rural North Carolina but he didn’t think he could be like sheriff Andy Taylor all in black and white, plus he couldn’t stand Aunt Bea’s falsetto voice, and who names their kid Opie anyway, he had to know it rhymed with dopey, you might as well just call him dipstick, that doesn’t rhyme with much.

Another personal favorite is this one from John Shafer of Tonbridge, Kent, UK, who also picked up a Dishonorable Mention, but in the Adventure category:

It was only when the booming voice of the Sergeant-at-Arms rang out declaiming the surprising order for each and every member of the firing squad to shoot the Sergeant-at-Arms himself and then turn their rifles on each other, an order assiduously followed by the well-trained soldiers, that the cigarette-smoking, blindfolded Gerry Corker truly appreciated the seemingly endless hours his mother had denied him on the baseball field during his lonely childhood, instead sending him every afternoon to Crazy Barney’s School of Mimicry and Ventriloquism.

Before I dissolve again in laughter, let me point you to the Web page where you can find all of this year’s victors and runners-up.

If you’re interested, the deadline for submissions to next year’s Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest is June 30, 2023.

Knee-Slappers and Great Groaners

One of the humorous high points of each twelvemonth is the announcement, by the English Department at California’s San Jose State University, of which entries have won its Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest. As you’ll recall, this competition was started in 1982 by Professor Scott E. Rice, and solicits the worst (i.e., funniest and most outlandish) opening sentences from never-to-be-completed books.

Fourteen clever scribblers captured honors this year, in categories ranging from Adventure and Children’s Lit & YA to Vile Puns and Purple Prose. Paul Scheeler of Buffalo, New York, triumphed in the Crime & Detective field with this smile-provoking entry:

The Big Joe Palooka murder wasn’t just another killing, another homicide, another manslaughter, another slaying, another hit, another whack, another rubbing-out, another bumping-off, another assassination, another liquidation, another extermination, another execution—but it was nothing new for Johnny Synonymous, Obsessive-Compulsive Crime Fighter.

That same category produced three Dishonorable Mentions:

“Irony,” bombasted Inspector Simons, “is when someone believes themselves more clever than anyone else in the room, but in fact they are careless, and foolish, like the murderer—MATILDA DANNER—yes, Matilda, YOU killed—wait, um ... where’s Matilda?” — Mark Meiches, Dallas, Texas

The cat purred like a Geiger counter beside the fireplace which crackled like gunfire (which reminded Detective Greenwich of his service in The Ukraine and The Latvia), this feline being the only witness to the murder of the wet nurse and, unless purring counts, he wasn't talking. — Michael McDermott, Dublin, Ireland

Detective Hill raised his service pistol and pointed it at the suspect, a master of disguise hiding in plain sight as a living statue in central park: “Freeze!” he called out. — Justin C. McCarthy, Cranston, Rhode Island

Also worth applauding is the Fantasy & Horror champ:

Upon his death, Van Helsing wrote: “This Vexes me still to-day … with no Mirror able to cast his Curs’d Reflection, how did Dracula comb his hair so perfectly every time and achieve such a clean, close shave that brought the babes in truckloads??” — Donald J. Hicks, Jr., Manchester, New Jersey

How can I overlook this Dishonorable Mention honoree in Romance?:

Brigid O’Hanion was the fairest flower of Southern womanhood, and Lt. Lance Beauregard was almost blind with lust for her, but after he slipped off her hoop skirt, unbuttoned her lacy blouse, untied her incredibly tight corset, dove beneath the rustling crinoline petticoats, and laboriously inched off her pantalets, he realized his mood had shifted and he now wondered if there was still some cold ham on the sideboard downstairs. — Randall Card, Bellingham, Washington

There’s also this gem from Historical Fiction:

To the rest of the world, General Sir Antony Alexander Agamemnon Hardcastle may have been the Scourge of the French, the Hero of the Borghorst Pass, and the fourth-worst enemy of the late Napoleon Bonaparte, but to the waitress at the Badger's Head Tavern and Grill, he was just another customer—and if he called her "cutie pie" one more time, she was going to do to him with one fork what Boney couldn't with a thousand men. — Scott Lyons, Stirling, Scotland

And of course, I must draw your attention to this year’s Grand Prize winner, submitted by Stu Duval of Auckland, New Zealand:

A lecherous sunrise flaunted itself over a flatulent sea,
ripping the obsidian bodice of night asunder with its rapacious fingers of gold, thus exposing her dusky bosom to the dawn’s ogling stare.

To take a gander at all of the 2021 Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest winners and hilarious runners-up, simply click here.

(Hat tip to Mystery Fanfare.)

Drawn Out and Delightful

Thanks to recent holiday disruptions, we are a bit tardy in bringing you the winners of the 2019 Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest, “a whimsical literary competition that challenges entrants to compose opening sentences to the worst of all possible novels.” We trust your enjoyment of the results will in no way be lessened by that delay.

There are 12 categories of victors, the most pertinent to this blog’s readers being Crime/Detective. Top honors go to Jeremy Das of Loughborough, England, for the following above-the-call-of-duty tale:

Realising that his symptoms indicated a virtually undetectable, fast-acting neurotoxin, CIA coroner Quinn Abner frantically wrote up the details, lay on the floor and, as a professional courtesy, did his best to draw a chalk outline of himself.

There are also half a dozen Dishonorable Mention recipients in that same category, our favorite three being these:

Olivia followed her breasts into my office where I was studying the dead flies on the window sill and dropped a large brown envelope on my desk, which rearranged the dust as it came to rest next to my right elbow, causing me to lose interest in the flies as I watched her walk away, watched carefully while wondering if the motion of her hips could bring a dead man back to life, which led to wondering what she could do to a man who was still alive. — Will Dennehy, Cambridge, Maryland

Detective Wilhelm Schmidt’s raspy voice poured through the telephone receiver like a dump truck of gravel unburdening its load—much like the trucks that worked around the clock at Rohrer’s Quarry off of 1-81, transporting payloads of lime, sandstone, crushed rock, and gypsum—though with Detective Schmidt’s heavy German accent, excavation on its own would not suffice, and a second, albeit entirely different industry would need to be invoked to really paint a crystal clear picture of his voice. — Cody Hanna, Lancaster, Pennsylvania

Prisoner #4420991 selected two large snow cones for his pre-execution last meal, much to everyone’s surprise, but #4420991 knew that death by lethal injection would come as sweet relief when balanced against the snow cone headache he expected to have. — Greg Homer, Diamond Springs, California

As you’ll recall, this competition—now in it 37th year—is named in honor of Edward George Earl Bulwer-Lytton, who in 1830 began a novel with the phrase “It was a dark and stormy night.” So naturally, there’s a Dark & Stormy category. 2019’s honoree in that field is Andrew Lundberg of Los Angeles, California, for this entry:

It was a dark and stormy night, and since this was Miami in July and everyone had left their convertible tops down, the rain fell in Cadillacs.

However, we’re quite fond of this Dishonorable Mention:

It was a Dark & Stormy Night; the rain fell in torrents outside the Breast Western—the country-themed strip club where the exotic dance duo of Stormy and Dark rattled the house (for it was a Tuesday), and fiercely agitated the lustful flames of the patrons who struggled in the darkness to rearrange their Wranglers. — Coby J. Scott, Hollywood, California

By the way, the Bulwer-Lytton contest’s 2019 Grand Prize winner is Maxwell Archer of Mount Pleasant, Ontario, Canada, for this gem:

Space Fleet Commander Brad Brad sat in silence, surrounded by a slowly dissipating cloud of smoke, maintaining the same forlorn frown that had been fixed upon his face since he’d accidentally destroyed the phenomenon known as time, thirteen inches ago.

Again, you can enjoy all of this year’s finalists here.

Overtly Over-the-Top and Overwritten

I have spent years now reporting the winners of the annual Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest, which importunes readers and writers to send in their worst (that is, most humorous and over-the-top) opening sentences from never-to-be-finished books. And every time, I think to myself, I should try this. Really, I should. But I never do. Perhaps because nothing that springs to my mind ever seems quite as clever or ridiculous as what others have submitted.

Consider, for instance, this year’s Crime/Detective category winner:

He glanced at his unsuspecting guests, his slight smile hiding his hateful mood, his calm eyes hiding his evil intentions, and his smooth skin hiding his tensed muscles, skeletal structure, and internal organs.

That one came from Dave Agans of Wilton, New Hampshire. Or how about this hilarious Honorable Mention winner, proferred by Jay Dardenne of Baton Rouge, Louisiana:

Who knew what answers the elongated, odd-shaped gray trunk would reveal, but there was no doubt that in solving the mysterious homicide at the zoo the great weight of evidence pointed to the elephant in the room.

The following gem comes from Ralph Cutting of Kingston upon Thames, England, and also earned an Honorable Mention nod:

Inspecteur Rollin of the Paris murder squad lit a cigarette as he stood over the body of la prostituée engorgée (to those readers who don’t know French, a prostitute with her throat cut and, indeed, how else would one describe her—la pute, la fille de joie, la vendeuse de sexe, la travailliste de la rue?) which lay on the Voie Georges Pompidou under the arches of le Pont Neuf on the rive droite of la Seine which flows through the most beautiful city in the world.

Meanwhile, 2018’s Grand Prize recipient is San Jose, California, resident Tanya Menezes, who contest organizers explain is “the youngest winner in contest history,” at just 17 years of age. Her entry might also have come from the Crime/Detective category:

Cassie smiled as she clenched John’s hand on the edge of an abandoned pier while the sun set gracefully over the water, and as the final rays of light disappeared into a star-filled sky she knew that there was only one thing left to do to finish off this wonderful evening, which was to throw his severed appendage into the ocean’s depths so it could never be found again—and maybe get some custard after.

Really, folks, how does one compete with such so-bad-they’re-good examples of fiction writing? If you’d like to try youself, though, the deadline for the next contest is June 30, 2019.

To see all of this year’s Bulwer-Lytton winners and runners-up, in a dozen categories, simply click here.

(Hat tip to Kevin’s Corner.)

Terrible … or Terrific?

It’s become a most pleasant tradition here at The Rap Sheet to announce each year’s winners of the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest, which solicits the worst (i.e., funniest and most outlandish) opening sentences from never-to-be-finished books. As Neatorama explained in a post earlier today, this competition, “running 35 years now, was named in honor of Edward George Earle Bulwer-Lytton, who in 1830 began a novel with the phrase ‘It was a dark and stormy night,’ which has been parodied endlessly ever since.”

Twenty-six-year-old outdoor retailer Kat Russo of Loveland, Colorado, has been declared the overall winner of the 2017 Bulwer-Lytton competition, after submitting this start to a fantasy tale:

The elven city of Losstii faced towering sea cliffs and abutted rolling hills that in the summer were covered with blankets of flowers and in the winter were covered with blankets, because the elves wanted to keep the flowers warm and didn’t know much at all about gardening.

Novelist, playwright, and politician Edward Bulwer-Lytton

Moving on to the Crime/Detective category, we find that Doug Self of Brunswick, Maine, has nabbed top honors with this oddball entry:

Detective Sam Steel stood at the crime scene staring puzzled at the chalk outline of Ms. Mulgrave’s body which was really just a stick figure with a dress, curly hair, boobs, and a smiley face because the police chalk guy had the day off.

My personal favorite among the Crime/Detective contenders, though, comes from the Dishonorable Mention pile and was sent in by Beth Armogida of Sierra Madre, California:

“It’s a classic,” she muttered, as she flicked the hair from the old fur coat purchased from eBay for sixty-eight dollars plus overnight shipping for the purpose of this very moment when she stuck out her hip, pulled the trigger, and shot him in that stupid face of his.

Click here to find all of the 2017 winners, in 13 categories. The deadline for submissions to the 2018 Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest is June 30 of next year.

(Hat tip to Bill Crider’s Pop Culture Magazine.)

When Bad Is Good

This is far from the first time I’ve written on this page about the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest, which asks contestants to submit the worst (i.e., funniest and most outlandish) opening sentences from never-to-be-finished books. Yet the task never ceases to raise a smile on my face. As Neatorama explains, “The annual contest is named for Victorian novelist Edward George Earle Bulwer-Lytton, who once began a book with the phrase ‘It was a dark and stormy night …’ and cemented those words as a writing cliché.” 2016 marks the 34th year for this bad-writing challenge, sponsored by the English Department at California’s San Jose State University.

Fifty-five-year-old Tallahassee, Florida, building contractor William “Barry” Brockett has been declared the overall winner of this year’s competition. His submission bears a distinctly hard-boiled air:

Even from the hall, the overpowering stench told me the dingy caramel glow in his office would be from a ten-thousand-cigarette layer of nicotine baked on a naked bulb hanging from a frayed wire in the center of a likely cracked and water-stained ceiling, but I was broke, he was cheap, and I had to find her.

The winner in the Crime/Detective category is Charles Caldwell of Leesville, Louisiana, who sent in this entry:

She walked toward me with her high heels clacking like an out-of-balance ceiling fan set on low, smiling as though about to spit pus from a dental abscess, and I knew right away that she was going to leave me feeling like I had used a wood rasp to cure my hemorrhoids.

But I am also rather fond of Akron, Ohio, resident Andrew Caruso’s “Dishonorable Mention” recipient in that same category:

As he gazed at Ming’s lifeless body draped over the sushi bar, chopsticks protruding from his back, Det. Herc Lue Perrot came to the sobering realization that tonight, there had been a murder at the Orient Express.

And I got an especially big chuckle out of the winner in the Purple Prose category, which comes from Rachel Nirenberg of Toronto, Canada:

She was like my ex-girlfriend Ashley, who'd stolen my car, broken my heart, murdered my father, robbed a bank, and set off a pipe bomb in Central Park—tall.

Click here to enjoy all of this year’s winners and runners-up.

The Good, the Bad, and the Punny

This has to be one of my favorite blogging duties: bringing to you, oh faithful Rap Sheet readers, the champions of the annual Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest. The task for 2015, as in previous years, was to create the worst (i.e., funniest) opening sentences from never-to-be-completed books. This competition is named in memory of Edward George Bulwer-Lytton, the English novelist and playwright who’s best remembered for having concocted that so frequently scorned opening phrase, “It was a dark and stormy night.”

2015’s overall winning entry comes from Joel Phillips of West Trenton, New Jersey, and fits nicely with this blog’s crime-fiction theme:

Seeing how the victim’s body, or what remained of it, was wedged between the grill of the Peterbilt 389 and the bumper of the 2008 Cadillac Escalade EXT, officer “Dirk” Dirksen wondered why reporters always used the phrase “sandwiched” to describe such a scene since there was nothing appetizing about it, but still, he thought, they might have a point because some of this would probably end up on the front of his shirt.

My favorite selection in the Crime/Detective category happens to be the runner-up, a morsel of inelegant prose supplied by Laura Ruth Loomis of Pittsburg, California:

When the corpse showed up in the swimming pool, her dead bosoms bobbing up and down like twin poached eggs in hollandaise sauce, Randy decided to call the police as soon as he finished taking pictures of his breakfast and posting them to his Facebook wall.

But I also appreciate this “dishonorable mention” winner in the Vile Puns category, submitted by Owen Roberts of Edina, Minnesota:

Sherlock Holmes brusquely dismissed his companion’s theory that the victim had died from an allergic reaction to either seasoning or seafood, saying “Watson, although the problem is alimentary, it is neither the Thyme nor the Plaice.”

Click here to enjoy all of the 2015 winners and their rivals.

Terrible ... or Terribly Good?

I’ve been rather joyfully following the annual Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest since 2009. Taking its name from Edward George Earle Bulwer-Lytton (1803-1873), it champions hideous (read: humorous) opening sentences from never-to-be-completed books. Entries are accepted in categories ranging from Adventure and Children’s Literature to Historical Fiction and Purple Prose.

Winning this year in the Crime category was Carl Turney of Bayswater, Victoria, Australia. Here’s his submission:

Hard-boiled private dick Harrison Bogart couldn’t tell if it was the third big glass of cheap whiskey he’d just finished, or the way the rain-moistened blouse clung so tightly to the perfect figure of the dame who just appeared panting in his office doorway, but he was certain of one thing … he had the hottest mother-in-law in the world.

Harrison, Ohio’s Joshua Long scored runner-up honors with this:

Hard-boiled private eye Smith Calloway had a sinking feeling
as he walked into the chaotic crime scene, for there, as expected, was the body dressed in a monk’s habit; there was the stuffed cream-colored pony next to the crisp apple strudel; there was the doorbell, the set of sleigh bells, and even the schnitzel with noodles--all proclaiming that the Von Trappist Killer had struck again.

Actually, though, I got the biggest chuckle from one of three “Dishonorable Mention” recipients in this category, submitted by Brian Brandt of Lansdale, Pennsylvania:

When the CSI investigator lifted the sheet revealing the mutilated body with the Ginsu Knife still protruding from the bloody chest, Detective Miller wondered why anybody would ever need two of them, even if he only had to pay extra shipping and handling.

Click here to read (or groan at) all of this year’s top contenders.

Greeting the Groaners

The winners of this year’s Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest to produce the opening sentence for “the worst of all possible novels” have been announced, and the victor in the Crime category is Tonya Lavel from Barbados, West Indies. Her submission:

It was such a beautiful night; the bright moonlight illuminated the sky, the thick clouds floated leisurely by just above the silhouette of tall, majestic trees, and I was viewing it all from the front row seat of the bullet hole in my car trunk.

Actually, I think I prefer the runner-up, which comes from Eric J. Hildeman of Greenfield, Wisconsin:

Seeing Mrs. Kohler sink, Detective Moen flushed as he plugged the burglary as the unmistakable work of Cap Fawcet, the Mad Plumber, for not only had her pool of assets been drained, but her clogs were now missing, and the toilet had been removed, leaving them with absolutely nothing to go on.

You’ll find several “dishonorable mentions” in this same category, plus victorious entries in other fields of fiction, right here.

So Bad They’re Good

Since, in previous years, I have faithfully announced the winners of the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest, I feel it necessary to inflict still more examples of bad writing on you this time around.

The English Department at San Jose State University sponsors this annual competition, which seeks to identify the opening sentence to “the worst of all possible novels.” There are a number of categories of victors, including those in fantasy, children’s literature, historical fiction, and western. Plus, there’s a top prize, which goes this year to Cathy Bryant of Manchester, England, for the following entry:

As he told her that he loved her she gazed into his eyes, wondering, as she noted the infestation of eyelash mites, the tiny deodicids burrowing into his follicles to eat the greasy sebum therein, each female laying up to 25 eggs in a single follicle, causing inflammation, whether the eyes are truly the windows of the soul; and, if so, his soul needed regrouting.

But if you find that groan-worthy, check out this winner in the crime category, submitted by Sue Fondrie of Appleton, Wisconsin:

She slinked through my door wearing a dress that looked like it had been painted on ... not with good paint, like Behr or Sherwin-Williams, but with that watered-down stuff that bubbles up right away if you don’t prime the surface before you slap it on, and--just like that cheap paint--the dress needed two more coats to cover her.

Perhaps my favorite among the crime-fiction candidates, though, comes from Carl Stich of Mariemont, Ohio, who receives a Dishonorable Mention for this opener:

Inspector Murphy stood up when he saw me, then looked down at the lifeless body, crumpled like a forlorn Snicker’s candy wrapper, and after a knowing glance at Detective Wilson pointed to the darkening crimson pool spreading from the stiff’s shattered noggin, and said, “You settle it, Gibson; does that puddle look more like a duck or a cow?”

Click here to read all the winning entries as well as their close rivals.

This contest, which has been held ever since 1982, is of course named after English novelist and playwright Edward George Bulwer-Lytton, who’s infamous for having concocted that oft-mocked opening phrase, “It was a dark and stormy night.”

Championing the Cringe-worthy

I’ve written at least a couple of times in the past about the notorious Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest. Held ever since 1982, this competition is named in honor (or should it be dishonor?) of Edward George Bulwer-Lytton, the English novelist-playwright who’s remembered best for the opening line, “It was a dark and stormy night.” The contest asks writers and aspiring humorists to submit what they think are the worst opening sentences for books that (let’s hope) will never see print.

Among this year’s prize winners are three in the crime-fiction category. This top vote-getter comes from Mark Wisnewski of Flanders, N.J.:

Wearily approaching the murder scene of Jeannie and Quentin Rose and needing to determine if this was the handiwork of the Scented Strangler--who had a twisted affinity for spraying his victims with his signature raspberry cologne--or that of a copycat, burnt-out insomniac detective Sonny Kirkland was sure of one thing: he’d have to stop and smell the Roses.

The runner-up in that same category is Highland Park, N.J., resident Andrew Baker, who sent along this death-row digression:

Five minutes before his scheduled execution, Kip found his thoughts turning to his childhood--all those years ago before he had become a contract killer whose secret weakness was a severe peanut allergy, even back before he lost half of a toe in a gardening accident while doing community service--but especially to Corinne, the pretty girl down the street whom he might have ended up marrying one day if she had only shown him a little more damn respect.

A “dishonorable mention” has also been given for crime fiction, the recipient being Basil McDonnell of Vancouver, B.C., Canada. His submission reads as follows:

The victim was a short man, with a face full of contradictions: amalgam, composite, dental porcelain, with both precious and non-precious metals all competing for space in a mouth that was open, bloody, terrifying, gaping, exposing a clean set of asymptomatic impacted wisdom teeth, but clearly the object of some very comprehensive dental care, thought Dirk Graply, world-famous womanizer, tough guy, detective, and former dentist.

The full list of this year’s Bulwer-Lytton prize winners and runners-up can be found here. Rules for entering the 2012 competition are here.

(Hat tip to The Little Professor.)

Best of the Worst

This is a joyful annual task: announcing the winners of the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest. Inspired by English novelist and playwright Edward George Bulwer-Lytton, who is infamous for having come up with the much-ridiculed opening line, “It was a dark and stormy night,” this lighthearted competition invites writers and aspiring humorists to create the worst opening sentences for books that (thank goodness) will never be completed. The contest has been held ever since 1982 and is sponsored by the English Department at California’s San Jose State University. As newspaperman-blogger Dave Knadler once characterized it, the Bulwer-Lytton challenge is “a sobering reminder on the perils of handling dashes and subordinate clauses without parental supervision.” Well phrased, indeed.

Top honors this year go to David McKenzie, described as “a 55-year-old Quality Systems consultant and writer from Federal Way, Washington.” His groan-producing parody reads:

Folks say that if you listen real close at the height of the full moon, when the wind is blowin’ off Nantucket Sound from the nor’east and the dogs are howlin’ for no earthly reason, you can hear the awful screams of the crew of the “Ellie May,” a sturdy whaler captained by John McTavish; for it was on just such a night when the rum was flowin’ and, Davey Jones be damned, big John brought his men on deck for the first of several screaming contests.

However, there are also winners in several individual categories. From the “Detective” division comes this bit of egregious overwriting, produced by Eric Rice of Sun Prairie, Wisconsin:

She walked into my office on legs as long as one of those long-legged birds that you see in Florida--the pink ones, not the white ones--except that she was standing on both of them, not just one of them, like those birds, the pink ones, and she wasn’t wearing pink, but I knew right away that she was trouble, which those birds usually aren’t.

Actually, though, I think I prefer the runner-up pick in that category, submitted by Los Angeles resident Tony Alfieri:

The dame sauntered silently into Rocco’s office, but she didn’t need to speak; the blood-soaked gown hugging her ample curves said it all: “I am a shipping heiress whose second husband was just murdered by Albanian assassins trying to blackmail me for my rare opal collection,” or maybe, “Do you know a good dry cleaner?”

And then there are several delightful “dishonorable mentions” (the best kind, in this competition), including this criminal misuse of clichés submitted by Lynn Lamousin of Baton Rouge, Louisiana:

Darnell knew he was getting hung out to dry when the D.A. made him come clean by airing other people’s dirty laundry; the plea deal was a new wrinkle and there were still issues to iron out, but he hoped it would all come out in the wash--otherwise he had folded like a cheap suit for nothing.

You’ll find all of this year’s winners and runners-up here.

Dishonorable Mentions

This isn’t the first time I’ve reported on the annual Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest (see here), and it likely won’t be the last. But I always do so with a bit of a cringe, understanding that what seems like drivel to many of us, might look to others like the height of literary originality and cocky style. The competition--named in “honor” of Edward Bulwer-Lytton (1803-1873), whose 1830 novel, Paul Clifford, began with the notorious phrase, “It was a dark and stormy night”--applauds particularly awful opening sentences to (fortunately) never-to-be-completed books. The contest has been sponsored by the English Department at California’s San Jose State University since 1982.

This year’s winner, Jim Guigli, a retired mechanical designer for the Lawrence Berkeley Laboratory and a resident of Carmichael, California, draws upon the not always wonderful world of hard-boiled detective fiction for his horrid book start:

Detective Bart Lasiter was in his office studying the light from his one small window falling on his super burrito when the door swung open to reveal a woman whose body said you’ve had your last burrito for a while, whose face said angels did exist, and whose eyes said she could make you dig your own grave and lick the shovel clean.

The especially determined Guigli is supposed to have submitted 60 entries to the 2006 contest, explaining much later that “My motivation for entering the contest was to find a constructive outlet for my dementia.”

While Guigli is the overall champ of this 23rd annual Bulwer-Lytton challenge, winners were also named in a variety of specific categories, from adventure and children’s literature, to historical fiction and “purple prose” (a seemingly redundant designation). Derek Fisher of Ottawa, Ontario, came away the victor in the detective-fiction field with this tarnished gem:

It was a dreary Monday in September when Constable Lightspeed came across the rotting corpse that resembled one of those zombies from Michael Jackson’s “Thriller,” except that it was lying down and not performing the electric slide.

And there’s even a runner-up in this category, Linda Fields of Framingham, Massachusetts, who submitted the following hilarious beginning:

The victim said her attacker was nondescript--5’ 10 and 3/4”, 163 pounds, with Clairol #83N hair (a hint of #84N at his temples)--and last seen wearing Acuvue2 contacts, a white Hanes 65/35% poly-cotton T-shirt with a 3mm round Grey Poupon stain on the neckband, Levi’s 501s missing the second button, and Nike Crosstrainers with muddy aglets.

You can read the entire list of winners here. Just don’t do it in the office, where red-faced guffawing and incessant knee slapping might be deemed inappropriate.