A Variety of Terrible Sentences

Here is yet another writing-themed entry. During the autumn semester, one of the things the professor, Valzhyna Mort Cortese, pushed in my Writing Against the Rules course was to leave our comfort zone. One of the later assignments in the semester was to write truly terrible—laughable—sentences. It was an enjoyable project to work on, and quite interesting to hear other students' writings (and their interpretation of what made a sentence bad.)

Opening Sentences:

1. The beautiful, golden sunrise rose over the orange-drenched field as the sun’s rays stretched out like yellow fingers over the waving sheaves of wheat.
2. This really long time ago—no, seriously, like, a really, really long time ago—all these people, I think they had a name, but it is not important, lived peacefully in this group of villages in these green mountains somewhere far away.
3. Once, there was this guy, and he was walking down the street, and he met this other guy, but it wasn’t the guy he meant to meet, so he kept walking.

Character Description:
She walked in with her inky, raven hair shimmering in the sparkly, sunny light from that big window with the long curtains. The silk blouse, red as raw ground beef, pulled tightly across her great, squishy pendulous breasts which felt like yeasty, unbaked bread.

Closing Sentences:

1. And so, the tides of time drifted onward, as she bobbed up and down in her memories like a marshmallow on a chocolatey sea of Hershey’s hot chocolate.
2. After his father died, he felt a great sadness, not unlike that kind of sadness you feel when you scrape the bottom of the peanut butter jar with the knife and know you have to go to the grocery store soon instead of sitting at home eating sandwiches—that kind of sadness.
3. And then they all died; the end.