Like a word, a single sentence can make or break a book. Books come in all forms; fiction, non-fiction, entertainment, information, third person omniscient, first person narrative, but the structure is basically the same.
A writer uses words to form a sentence, and the sentence is presented in order to define and clarify an idea, but there are some sentences that do the job better than others.
Last time, I made my point by showing how changing a single word in a sentence can elicit different imagery. This time, I want to show the first few sentences from an actual, published book.
I went to Amazon, and by utilizing the look inside feature, I was able to look at the following sentences from the introduction of Marion Gropen’s The Profitable Publisher: Making the Right Decisions.
The following are the first sentences:
Most publishing folks would rather have their teeth pulled than wade into their “numbers.” But, if you want to survive and thrive as a small press, you can’t afford to avoid the math. My aim here is to get you past any difficulties, painlessly. I’ve never found anyone who couldn’t learn this material. Nor have they ever needed anesthesia! You can do this. You may even enjoy it.
Where do I begin?
First and foremost, I want to point out the use of would and could. Both of these words make for weak writing. I can expound upon this for hours on end, and perhaps, for my next post, I will, but for now, let’s look at the core idea.
A single paragraph is designed to present a single idea, and the sentences within the paragraph are there to explain the idea in the most concise and cogent terms.
So, what’s the key idea, and how do these sentences make or break this book?
The idea is that with Gropen’s information, a small press can thrive. The insinuation is that a small, publishing press can’t survive without doing the math. Great, but let’s look at the first sentence.
Most publishing folks would rather have their teeth pulled than wade into their “numbers.”
First of all, this is a wild assumption. Second of all, using would signifies an if situation; this is not an assertion but a guess.
If people find themselves wading through numbers, they would rather have their teeth pulled.
Again, this is an assumption.
A better way to write this is:
No publisher enjoys wading through the numbers.
Then, why is numbers in quotations? It isn’t a quote. There’s no dialogue. I understand this is written as a first person narrative, so the author is talking to me, the reader, but then the whole thing requires quotations, and we just don’t do that. Furthermore, numbers isn’t slang, which benefits from an italicized font and not quotations anyway, but I’m deviating from my point, sort of; a sentence is more than what we hear, it’s also what we see, and the punctuation and grammar we use is used to provide the most direct information, especially in regards to an informative book.
This first sentence also dives right into the second sentence:
But, if you want to survive and thrive as a small press, you can’t afford to avoid the math.
I guess no one taught this author not to start a sentence with a conjunction. Did they forget FANBOYS?
A conjunction ties two ideas together, so, more appropriately, the first two sentences are a single, complex sentence:
Most publishing folks would rather have their teeth pulled than wade into their “numbers”, but if you want to survive and thrive as a small press, you can’t afford to avoid the math.
That’s the correct way to write this single sentence. The reason the first comma belongs outside the quotation marks is because what’s quoted isn’t dialogue, and needs to not be in quotations anyway. Secondly, you don’t put a comma after but. The comma goes before the conjunction. Now, I want to add that when we deal with dialogue, many of the rules go out the window, but I’ll deal with that in a later post.
So, we have instead:
Most publishing folks would rather have their teeth pulled than wade into their numbers, but if you want to survive and thrive as a small press, you can’t afford to avoid the math.
Now, that’s a big, bulky, clunky sentence. What’s it saying? It’s saying that publishers don’t want to deal with numbers because it’s unpleasant. Is it unpleasant? Maybe; let’s assume it is.
How does the following sentence sound?
No publisher enjoys wading through the numbers.
That says it all. It’s concise, it’s direct, it gives the reader no wiggle room; they know beyond a doubt, just by reading that first sentence, that working through numbers sucks.
So, let’s tackle the next sentence:
My aim here is to get you past any difficulties, painlessly.
I don’t know that here is required. Obviously, if reading this book, the aim is provided in here.
My aim is to get you past any difficulties, painlessly.
It works, but again, it sounds clunky.
How about:
Unfortunately, the math is crucial to a small press, but don’t fret; I’m going to show you what to do.
This complex sentence accompanies my first sentence, and it provides reassurance to the reader while reinforcing the original premise; doing the numbers sucks.
Next, the writer has the following:
I’ve never found anyone who couldn’t learn this material.
This raises questions; how many people have they taught, how many people have had trouble trying to get over the trouble of dealing with numbers, and if there’s no trouble involved in learning how to get over the difficulties of dealing with the numbers, why is there a whole book devoted to it?
Moreover, this sentence deals with something superfluous. The introduction originally stated that publishers don’t enjoy working through the numbers, and that the premise of the book was going to be about how to get past that difficulty, but this new sentence addresses the ease with which one can get past the difficulty of how difficult it can be to get past working with numbers. Did you get all that? Confusing, right?
Let’s just cut this sentence completely and move on to the next one:
Nor have they ever needed anesthesia!
Well, crapola; now we start a new sentence with another conjunction, which ties back into the premise that people would rather have teeth pulled than wade through numbers. There’s no need to reinforce a would be scenario, and since this is a fragment, we’ll just cut it, too.
Next, we have:
You can do this.
Okay, its’ a little positive reinforcement. That’s good, but why on earth is canboth italicized and bold?
Finally, we have:
You may even enjoy it.
Aha, but I may not enjoy it, eh? That just negated the previous, positive reinforcement, so we’ll cut that.
What do we have left then?
No publisher enjoys wading through the numbers. Unfortunately, the math is crucial to a small press, but don’t fret; I’m going to show you what to do. You can do this.
In this version, the final sentence breaks the flow of the paragraph, so you see how important a sequence of properly written sentences is.
A better way to write this is:
No publisher enjoys wading through the numbers. Unfortunately, the math is crucial to a small press, but don’t fret; I’m going to show you what to do. The following pages are filled with simple rules to follow, which will lead you and your small press to success. You can do this, and I’m going to help you.
Now, let’s be honest; which book are you more likely to read? Do you have a better understanding of the importance of proper sentences and how seemingly similar sentences can evoke totally different mindsets?
Thank you.