The Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest web page is one I would really like to explore in depth.
This type of writing is an art form in itself, albeit not one which conjures up an image of tucking one’s knees under the rug on a sofa, hot cup of tea in hand, and settling down to a cosy winter afternoon read, pale sunlight streaming through the dusty window, etc.
I am experimenting. I shared the above link on Facebook first, since it reminded me of a period in my childhood which might well have you wondering how I have survived so long.
Here is my opening paragraph:
The delapidated swimming pool at the long since defunct sports club was swollen with African summer rains now transformed into slimy green, still water, fairly free of frogs, with only the odd water louse skating across its surface yet was strangely inviting to ten-year old Greta, eager once again to plunge its depths and lie face-up on its bottom in the purest of all solitude with her eyes wide open, looking at the strange yellow refraction of the sun’s light through the thick, murky, lumpy green algae and when her lungs were about half-depleted of air to cease releasing little bubbles through her nose, go quite limp and float dreamily to the top offering no resistance to the body’s natural tendency to turn face down in perfect impersonation of a bloated corpse complete with long hair spread in ghastly stillness all about her head upon reaching the surface where she would enjoy a brief moment of the fierce midday sun burning into her back before she could stand it no longer and was compelled to thrust her head out of the water and draw breath once more.
By the way, I originally started this blog to train myself to write shorter sentences.
I eagerly await your own first paragraph of 51 Shades of Green in the comments below. Have no fear; you are entitled to retain full copyright of whatever you contribute.🙂