The Case for ‘Run-On’s :: BLONDE ROAST. *ominous tones*
It has been speculated that a major part of the appeal for The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins was due to its use of short, clipped sentences. (See Jeff Goins “Why The Hunger Games is the Future of Writing. >> http://goinswriter.com/hunger-games/)
To summarize, novels of the future are likely to be written in small sentences, packed with information and suspense, because the Internet/TV/connected world we live in has changed the way we think. (And subsequently, the way we read.)
Though I do think that such speculations are accurate (in their having necessary evidence), I do not submit to a future of Internet-style reading. In the words of Edna St. Vincent Millay, “I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned.” A long sentence has as much potential for art as a short one, or even more, if carefully crafted. The problem is, they aren’t what people are programmed to enjoy. So I have a suggestion: Get a coffee.
Starbucks, from its beginning, was known for its dark coffees. Their policy was as good as this: You don’t like darker coffee? You are used to lighter? Bummer, dude. We do darker, because it is better, and you’ll have to get used to that. It was a controversial move towards a society used to getting what they want, when they wanted it. And it worked for a while. Starbucks acclaim grew loud, and the smirking green mermaid was popping up all over the US. But there were still several who complained. What if I don’t want better coffee? And of course, the answer was, “Go to McDonald’s.”
At which point Starbucks realized that they were actually going to McDonald’s. Like Prince Humperdink’s cry of “You’re bluffing!” in The Princess Bride, so had Starbucks’ indifferent attitude been perceived. And retaliation (Fine, then! We’ll drink gas station coffee, if that’s what it takes!) was made swiftly. In time, Starbucks caved. “Okay, ALRIGHT ALREADY! Come buy our Blonde Roast!” they cried. They were beyond taste, now. Changing America’s poor taste was not the issue at hand. It was business.
The run on sentence, I hope, will be fought for with fervor, and not with resolution that dies out with the sight of some extra greenery, but one upheld eternally, by young, old, and Tolkien-loving alike. Long live the run-on, I say, and let its artful lengthiness ever grace the pages of modern literature. (Huzzah!) Until the next…
Do you tend towards run-ons, or are you. One. of. those. who. tends to. be more. Clipped?