Ten years ago a Des Moines reporter wrote about a 70-degree day in March. He did so in a 290-word sentence that apparently has become a staple of college courses, texts and journalism seminars on how to write for newspapers. What do you think of this sentence?

"Here's how Iowa celebrates a 70-degree day in the middle of March: By washing the car and scooping the loop and taking a walk; by daydreaming in school and playing hooky at work and shutting off the furnace at home; by skate-boarding and flying kites and digging through closets for baseball gloves; by riding that new bike you got for Christmas and drawing hopscotch boxes in chalk on the sidewalk and not caring if the kids lost their mittens again; by looking for robins and noticing swimsuits on department store mannequins and shooting hoops in the park; by sticking the ice scraper in the trunk and the antifreeze in the garage and leaving the car parked outside overnight; by cleaning the barbecue and stuffing the parka in storage and just standing outside and letting that friendly sun kiss your face; by wondering where you're going to go on summer vacation and getting reacquainted with neighbors on the front porch and telling the boys that yes! yes! they can run outside and play without a jacket; by holding hands with a lover and jogging in shorts and picking up the extra branches in the yard; by eating an ice cream cone outside and (if you're a farmer or gardener) feeling that first twinge that says it's time to plant and (if you're a high school senior) feeling that first twinge that says it's time to leave; by wondering if in all of history there has ever been a day so glorious and concluding that there hasn't and being afraid to even stop and take a breath (or begin a new paragraph) for fear that winter would return, leaving Wednesday in our memory as nothing more than a sweet and too-short dream."

Well, I'd have broken it up. But obviously the journalist was wanting to make a point about "not wanting to stop" so as not to interfere with the enjoyament of spring.

Did it work? Partly for me - but I wonder how well it worked for others. Conventional journalistic wisdom seems to favour short sentences and multiple paragraphs - at least in the popular press.

I quite liked it. Its run-on quality successfully conveyed to me a sense of excitement and idea of never-wanting-it-to-stop.

I've heard that most US newspapers are written on a 4th grade reading level. Short sentences and short paragraphs would correspond with that idea.

quote:

I've heard that most US newspapers are written on a 4th grade reading level. Short sentences and short paragraphs would correspond with that idea.

We don't have grades in British schools but my guess is, assuming the US reading ability is the same as the UK, that 4th grade equates to around 13 years of age. That's the reading age that our red-tops write for.

Actually, 4th graders are about 10 here.

The last time I was in the USA the hotel supplied "USA Today" - which I found very superficial (and others did tell me that it wasn't a very highly-regarded journal). Certainly it used very easy language.

Being Orlando, with a large number of UK visitors, the enterprising Orlando Sentinel had arranged with our Daily Mail to print copies locally from a file that had been emailed to them. Many local breakfast establishments sold this paper which did allow me to "keep in touch with home".

I would think that The Daily Mail is probably written for a reading age of about 15 or 16; it's considered one of our more serious papers (though not so serious as The Times or The Telegraph). I started to read The Times when I left school - at 18 - and I would think that's about the reading age they aim at.

I don't think much of it. It's essentially a dozen sentences all rolled into one. It would be much more readable if it were broken up, like this:

quote:

"Here's how Iowa celebrates a 70-degree day in the middle of March:

By washing the car and scooping the loop and taking a walk;

by daydreaming in school and playing hooky at work and shutting off the furnace at home;

by skate-boarding and flying kites and digging through closets for baseball gloves;

by riding that new bike you got for Christmas and drawing hopscotch boxes in chalk on the sidewalk and not caring if the kids lost their mittens again;

by looking for robins and noticing swimsuits on department store mannequins and shooting hoops in the park;

by sticking the ice scraper in the trunk and the antifreeze in the garage and leaving the car parked outside overnight;

by cleaning the barbecue and stuffing the parka in storage and just standing outside and letting that friendly sun kiss your face;

by wondering where you're going to go on summer vacation and getting reacquainted with neighbors on the front porch and telling the boys that yes! yes! they can run outside and play without a jacket;

by holding hands with a lover and jogging in shorts and picking up the extra branches in the yard;

by eating an ice cream cone outside and (if you're a farmer or gardener) feeling that first twinge that says it's time to plant and (if you're a high school senior) feeling that first twinge that says it's time to leave;

by wondering if in all of history there has ever been a day so glorious and concluding that there hasn't and being afraid to even stop and take a breath (or begin a new paragraph) for fear that winter would return, leaving Wednesday in our memory as nothing more than a sweet and too-short dream."

I haven't changed a word, but by breaking it up and inserting white spaces between the different subsentences, the sentence becomes one that might actually be read. The sentence as written reminds me of those commercials followed by the "fine print" being read in a low, monotonous, and extremely fast tone. Definitely irritating. There is one section that I stumbled over and had to reread, even after I broke it down: "... by wondering if in all of history there has ever been a day so glorious and concluding that there hasn't and ..." It didn't make sense at first because I read ... "a day so glorious and concluding ..." and wondered what the hell he was talking about. What's a "glorious and concluding day?" A comma after "glorious" would have helped prevent that stumble. The purpose of prose writing is to inform, or at least it should be. Succint, clear writing informs best.

Samuel Anthony Barnett, in The Story of Rats (Allen & Unwin, 2001), says "Ganesa is a god of literacy and learning, who (bless him) insists that everything written should be readily understood ." I'll second that.

Anthony's book is very easy to read and very interesting.

Tinman

This message has been edited. Last edited by: tinman,

I agree with you, Tinman, that I didn't much like it, either. The descriptors were nice and all, but it seemed to be too much for a sentence. I like your change, Tinman, or I might even like bullets.

Richard, the USA Today is superficial and not well-respected here at all. I wouldn't judge our papers by that one.

Some good US papers which I have read on occasion: San Jose Mercury, Los Angeles Times, New York Times, Anderson Valley Advertiser, Wall Street Journal, and Christian Science Monitor.