Há um prêmio para os piores escritores sim! Neste artigo do Guardian.co.uk/books, são anunciados o campeão e vice-campeão da pior sentença e os vencedores nas categorias ficção histórica e romance.
Antes, porém, a sentença que inspirou o prêmio, do escritor inglês Bulwer-Lytton (e que realmente faz jus a essa honraria):
“It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents – except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies), rattling along the housetops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness”.
Agora sim, as sentenças vencedoras deste ano:
Pior sentença (Sue Fondrie):
“Cheryl’s mind turned like the vanes of a wind-powered turbine, chopping her sparrow-like thoughts into bloody pieces that fell onto a growing pile of forgotten memories”
Vice-Campeão (Rodney Reed):
“As I stood among the ransacked ruin that had been my home, surveying the aftermath of the senseless horrors and atrocities that had been perpetrated on my family and everything I hold dear, I swore to myself that no matter where I had to go, no matter what I had to do or endure, I would find the man who did this … and when I did, when I did, oh, there would be words.”
Ficção Histórica (John Doble):
“Napoleon’s ship tossed and turned as the emperor, listening while his generals squabbled as they always did, splashed the tepid waters in his bathtub”
Romance (Ali Kawashima):
“As the dark and mysterious stranger approached, Angela bit her lip anxiously, hoping with every nerve, cell, and fiber of her being that this would be the one man who would understand – who would take her away from all this – and who would not just squeeze her boob and make a loud honking noise, as all the others had.”
É óbvio que não me atreverei a traduzir nenhuma das sentenças, para não correr o sério risco de conseguir piorar o que já foi aclamado como o pior do ano.