Write the worst opening sentence you can imagine for a novel. Then submit it to the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest. Then win, if, of course, you have achieved sufficient badness.
Author Molly Ringle did just that, by writing:
“For the first month of Ricardo and Felicity’s affair, they greeted one another at every stolen rendezvous with a kiss–a lengthy, ravenous kiss, Ricardo lapping and sucking at Felicity’s mouth as if she were a giant cage-mounted water bottle and he were the world’s thirstiest gerbil.”
Why of course there’s a contest for this. You should peruse the work of those who won in other categories, like Mary Ann R. Unger’s victorious Historical Fiction entry:
“In Southwestern Germany just east of the Luxemburg border and north of France where history pitted various related Hapsburg Royals against each other and the Archbishops of Trier, the Abbots of St. Maximin, various members of the nobility, and mobs of axe-bearing villagers, there stands a ruin whose building stones mostly were carted off to build other buildings.”
Source: Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest