Taken from Wretched Writing: A Compendium of Crimes Against the English Language by Ross Petras and Kathryn Petras (Perigee, $15)
Let us briefly address a very specific subset of wretched writers. We speak of politicians and political pundits who decide that they are novelists and manage to get their novels published by large, well-known publishers.
[Ed. note: We are not convinced the fact of being accepted and published is due to the literary quality of said works. Or are we being cynical?]
[Ed. note: Nah.]
Most often these Washington insiders write, as you might expect, political thrillers based on their Washington inside knowledge. All well and good. But when one looks at excerpts for their work — particularly their ostensibly racy sex scenes, one deduces that while they might have knowledge about politicians and the inner workings of Washington, they do not seem to have much knowledge of good writing. Or for that matter, good sex. Take these six examples.
(Please take them. We don’t want them anymore and you will see why.)
Suddenly the pouting sex kitten gave way to Diana the Huntress. She rolled onto him and somehow was sitting athwart his chest, her knees pinning his shoulders. “Tell me, or I will make you do terrible things,” she hissed.
Even though it had been only minutes since their last lovemaking, John Mayhew was as ever overwhelmed by the sight of her, the shameless pleasure she took in her own body and its effect on him. Since he wasn’t sure what to say, he made a production out of lighting up and enjoying that first, luxurious after-bout inhalation.
—Former Speaker of the House Newt Gingrich, 1945 (1995)
Okay, Shannon Michaels, off with those pants! Ashley was now wearing only brief white panties. She had signaled her desire by removing her shirt and skirt, and by leaning back on the couch. She closed her eyes, concentrating on nothing but Shannon’s tongue and lips. He gently teased her by licking the areas around her most sensitive erogenous zone. Then he slipped her panties down her legs and, within seconds, his tongue was inside her, moving rapidly...
—Television host Bill O’Reilly, Those Who Trespass (1998)
She romped on top of Simolzak’s huge frame, straddling him with her hands on his chest, her back arched and her breasts flailing wildly in the air. Her back was to him and her long hair swung from side to side as if accentuating the abandonment of her screams.
—Senator Jim Webb (D-VA), Lost Soldiers (2002)
I set the edge of my teeth halfway up her breast, just at the point of tension but not, so far as I could tell, of pain. This was the sweetest flesh I had ever tasted, including !sh and fowl.
—Former Governor of Massachusetts William Weld, Stillwater: A Novel (2002)
He could feel her heart beneath his hands. He moved his hands slowly lower still and she arched her back to help him and her lower leg came against his. He held her breasts in his hands. Oddly, he thought, the lower one might be larger.
—Former vice-presidential aide I. Lewis (Scooter) Libby, The Apprentice (1996)
As he drew nearer and removed her T-shirt and panties, she began to moan deeply and loudly. Loudly and deeply. In the midst of their heat, such a state of abandon was reached that the normally voyeuristic Jack, who liked to watch himself make love, actually fell from the bed onto the hot radiator. But, like the Indian fakirs who can be on a bed of nails without later showing puncture marks, Jack did not scorch or burn, nothing visible remaining except a small soreness days later.
Once he was inside her, she began to cry and shudder in a series of small convulsions. He had never been with a woman who reacted like this and was both surprised and excited by her abandon.
Her cries became veritable screams as she moaned, and her eyes became glassy with passion. As Jack continued to bring Sara to an increasingly greater state of tension and release, tension— a violent begging for release and then the convulsive wave— her screaming became threatening.
—Radio host Michael Savage, Abuse of Power (2012)