run-on sentences, kept warm by

OK, so I really didn't expect anybody to comment. That was all just padding to make my "hey, look what I noticed!" thoughts fill out to be long enough for a blog entry.

Y'all should read the story, though. And Catch-22. And Kevin Wilson's short story collection Tunneling to the Center of the Earth, which is ever so slightly to the real side of Murakami and (dare I say) almost as heartbreaking, and which I would have stayed up all last night to finish if it wasn't for the damn antihistamines knocking me out again and which I would probably finish tonight except that both kids will be out at parties which means I have a good three hours to myself to frickin' write for a change, if I don't squander it on Modern Warfare or something.

My editor-minded friends are always getting on me about run-on sentences, but they're fun and they keep me warm in the winter when I don't have any warm-blooded small animals around.


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IF you use enough run on sentences, it becomes your style, like ee cummings with no lack of capitals.

It's what people of an editorial temperament do. i show stuff to my wife and she complains endless, but she has that bent toward control and order about her. Funny, the other people who read stuff of mine (Sam, you, my friend Victoria) sort of cluck over the run away trains a bit sometimes but that's about it. Then Sam goes off about that long sentence in Mystic Pig and I'm suddenly scanning it into Word via OCR so I can do a word count on it and the next thing you know I'm out of breath, so I stop; not always with proper punctuation (well, with actually) but not in proper anal obsessive stuffing-German-and-Danish-with-a-bit-of-French-into-medieval-Latin-Grammar sense of self control.

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This page contains a single entry by Ray published on December 5, 2009 10:02 AM.

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