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really really long sentence challenge

Stella_Omega

Stella_Omega

No Gentleman
Joined
Jul 14, 2005
Posts
39,700
Can you tell a whole story without a single full stop?

The challenge; minimum one hundred words-- Remember that semi colons and parentheses are your friends.

This is the longest one I've ever managed, 550 words long-- such as it is. I know a woman who used to create fabulous sentences, each one 1,200 words-- but the medication is helping now. ;)

I remember a cold night in Zurich, 1979, when I sat desperate and alone amid a crowd of night-timers in the unwelcoming American Bar; I had just demonstrated the technique of applying liquid eyeliner to create that 1960's cats-eye effect, and some fey man blew on my eyelids to dry them-- under pretext of drawing back from that actually pleasant sensation my shoulder nudged into the smooth left arm and soft left breast of one Veronika, (Model, Russian, tawny) sitting behind me and with that sly contact tingling over my fatigue, my ennui, the dull misery of an Ex-pat life, I looked idly out the big front window to see- limned in lamplight- a figure looking in; unearthly pale hair lifting in the wind, blue eyes- shuttered against the chill- gleamed like (as the old cliche has it) stars, and the near-perfect lips parted that little bit when the face lifted, the lamplight shadows showing a momentary glimpse of the skull underneath like a magician's trick; I said "Who is that?" and Veronika replied; "I don't know, but he's looking at you," and I remember on one other night very late, (in the rain, or was it snowing?) crossing the mouth of a cobbled alley and seeing two figures at the other end engaged in a dumb-show dance; she- whom I recognised as Orly, a fierce and desirable African-American woman (not that I had the courage to tell her of my desire) pushed he- a slender and unknown man, by the shoulders and he went staggering backwards into the metal shutters of some quondam shop sending the dull reverberation dimly to my ears and the grace with which he pushed himself away from the wall and came back to her was exquisite; once more she sent him into the sounding shutters, the rain- yes, I remember now- coming down harder and creating slick highlights under the lamps that lit this violent pas de deux while they whirled half-way around and his back met the opposite wall before she turned and ran splashing water from the puddles, and he picked himself up and followed her around the corner and out of my sight- and this must have happened before that night in the bar, because Veronika pushed me to my feet- or was it later, because I remember now, how I scanned the many nights for a glimpse of that vision without success until (yes, I have it, it was so long ago after all) I walked past the American Bar and looked in and there he sat- I recognised him by the shape of his skull, and he came to the door speaking at first in the Zurich dialect before switching to English; "Ich Heisse (my name is) Marcus" and we walked away towards our first night together; but although we became lovers (friends as well, in time) although he later moved to my city in the U.S. and met and married one of my friends, although we see each other as often as anyone else in this busy world, what I most remember is that perfect voyeur's moment when Marcus let Orly throw him against the wall with no thought of defending himself; the night and the grey stones, the rain and the figures whirling, again and again.
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I'll give it a shot . . . .

It wasn't that she was model-gorgeous, or really gorgeous at all, for that matter (to be honest, the whole subject of beauty has so many twists and turns for me that I couldn't begin to tell you my ideas on just what constitutes a 'gorgeous' woman), but I there was definitely something about her; maybe it was her eyes, the way they sparkled like lavender gemstones, or those lush, full, ripe lips that always begged for a kiss, or even the way her hair hung like black silk along her porcelain face (and it really was soft as silk), but it was definitely something, and I was smitten with her the moment we met.

@ 115 words. ;)

Not exactly a full story, though . . . Hmm.
 
Stella_Omega said:
Keep going! :rose:
Are you still together? Did it end? well, or badly?
Click to expand...

Actually, I just pulled that out of my . . . hat. :p

But I could work on it. Hmm . . .
 
slyc_willie said:
Actually, I just pulled that out of my . . . hat. :p

But I could work on it. Hmm . . .
Click to expand...
You can't fool me, slyc--
you're not wearing a hat! :p
 
Stella_Omega said:
You can't fool me, slyc--
you're not wearing a hat! :p
Click to expand...

Sure I am. It's hanging off the end of my . . . sword. :devil:

I think I'm getting too carried away with . . . ellipses. You'd think that I learned to write from . . . William Shattner. :p
 
Hey, you can't let the boys back at OA know that I stopped in here, since they think I'm on the road to rambling recovering, or run-on recovery, take your pick; me, I ain't that technical, because so many words can mean so many things at any given time; I guess that's what keeps me coming back to these joints, I mean these cyber joints, not the other kind of joints, which is funny, but not that funny - see, we get ideas in our heads, I got ideas just from walking in here, and jesus I won't bullshit anybody, but I probably don't need to since those boys back at OA sometimes walk by on their way home from the meetings (don't get the wrong idea, they mean well, and let me tell you, those guys went looooong, I mean they ran their words out so many times, over the years, you can just look in their eyes - I mean I like I like a load of commas just like the next guy, but whoa!), because that's the thing, see I can handle my commas, I just let them get out of control a couple times too many... right, but try and tell that to the Paragraph Patrol, they see somebody stumbling through a dark narrow page, commas falling out of their hands, they just react... but they coulda let me walk, the end of the paragraph wasn't that far away, and I don't think a couple dashes on the way really hurts anybody... of course it didn't help that we just got a mayor who really has a thing against ellipses, wants to impose periods - nice imagery there, huh - she wants to impose her own little periods on the rest of the county, but what can a guy do but try and stay low... well, I better get going... let me see, I think I got it... that's one period?
 
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i think we have to rule out semicolons, to make the contest interesting, which means ruling out clause;clause constructions that require them.

stella, i rather like this portion (where in fact the semicolon is not necessary.

once more she sent him into the sounding shutters, the rain- yes, I remember now- coming down harder and creating slick highlights under the lamps that lit this violent pas de deux while they whirled half-way around and his back met the opposite wall before she turned and ran splashing water from the puddles, and he picked himself up and followed her around the corner and out of my sight- and this must have happened before that night in the bar, because Veronika pushed me to my feet- or was it later, because I remember now, how I scanned the many nights for a glimpse of that vision without success until (yes, I have it, it was so long ago after all) I walked past the American Bar and looked in and there he sat- I recognised him by the shape of his skull, and he came to the door speaking at first in the Zurich dialect before switching to English; "Ich Heisse (my name is) Marcus" and we walked away towards our first night together;
 
Pure said:
i think we have to rule out semicolons, to make the contest interesting, which means ruling out clause;clause constructions that require them.

stella, i rather like this portion (where in fact the semicolon is not necessary.

once more she sent him into the sounding shutters, the rain- yes, I remember now- coming down harder and creating slick highlights under the lamps that lit this violent pas de deux while they whirled half-way around and his back met the opposite wall before she turned and ran splashing water from the puddles, and he picked himself up and followed her around the corner and out of my sight- and this must have happened before that night in the bar, because Veronika pushed me to my feet- or was it later, because I remember now, how I scanned the many nights for a glimpse of that vision without success until (yes, I have it, it was so long ago after all) I walked past the American Bar and looked in and there he sat- I recognised him by the shape of his skull, and he came to the door speaking at first in the Zurich dialect before switching to English; "Ich Heisse (my name is) Marcus" and we walked away towards our first night together;
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You can write yours without semicolons, if you like, and that does add an "advanced level" to the whole challenge-- personally, I like 'em (and they've always been allowed in the rules). ;)

And thank you for the comment and compliment, Pure!
 
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See my story: Breathless Stargazing.

I even got paid for a version of that.

And my earlier attempt to wreck Microsoft Word's Style Checker:

How NOT to do it...
The roseate Sun, Phoebus’ orb, was glinting in the puddles and dappling the fallen leaves of the ancient forest as Joan made her way along the footpath leading from her rustic rose-entwined cottage, so beloved of tourists and her infrequent visitors from the city who left as soon as they reasonably could because the cottage lacked the basic amenities than any twenty-first century city dweller expected as of right such as satellite television and even running hot and cold water, both of which were unavailable, towards the steeple crowned hill on which the Parish Church sat as it had done for more than a thousand years surveying the expanding and contracting village in the valley beneath and perhaps regretting the earlier centuries when it had been filled to capacity by local residents each in their proper place and order according to the standards of the time, but Joan diverted from the direct route to the Church at a junction and was now heading in the direction of the Evening Star, the planet Venus known as Aphrodite to the Greeks but whether Greek or Roman was the personification of sexual desire, which sexual desire Joan was expecting to assuage once she reached her destination but in the meantime she was diverted by the interplay of light and shade from the evening sun as it sank lower on the horizon turning the landscape to a darkening ruddy hue which darkened further as she walked wondering whether she would reach her destination and assignation before Phoebus’ chariot had passed beyond her view but even if she did not her path was clear because she was accustomed to walking in the direction of the Evening Star every evening that she had free from her avocation of breeder of large and hairy dogs that bore a faint resemblance to The Hound of The Baskervilles and at times she would take one of the so-called breed with her on her perambulation which would certainly deter any evil minded loiterers upon her way but unfortunately also frequently prevented the consummation of her assignation by refusing to leave her side and repulsing her intended with ferocious barking and frenzied attacks barely held in check by the strong leash essential for such savage dogs but this time she was without a canine companion and therefore she hoped that the consummation would be forthcoming without let or hindrance as she continued to walk alongside the nearly dark woodlands before emerging on a slight eminence whence she could see her goal of another rose-entwined cottage from the chimney of which a wisp of smoke was arising promising warmth in both the physical, mental and sexual encounter which Joan would shortly enjoy.

"He's lit my fire" she said to herself.

PS. Ignoring the last short sentence which I couldn't resist:

Words 450
Sentences 1
Reading Ease 0
Grade Level 12.0

Og
 
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par l'esprit des escalier

Pure-- what would you use in place of that semicolon?

And it's funny, because this part; Veronika pushed me to my feet- or was it later, because I remember now, how I scanned the many nights for a glimpse of that vision without success until (yes, I have it, it was so long ago after all) has never seemed satisfactory to me. :)
 
The semi-colon concern is understandable, since a semi-colon is just a comma topped with a period, but as long as that comma keeps the period from falling to the ground, I think an allowance of one semi-colon per 84 words (not counting articles and pronouns with less than four letters) is a fair compromise.
 
No, I cannot.

I can't even READ that paragraph.
 
hmmnmm said:
The semi-colon concern is understandable, since a semi-colon is just a comma topped with a period, but as long as that comma keeps the period from falling to the ground, I think an allowance of one semi-colon per 84 words (not counting articles and pronouns with less than four letters) is a fair compromise.
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You guys hold off on the advanced options for a while, K? It's hard enough getting people to try it in it's lowest levels!

Jeeze!
 
Stella_Omega said:
Can you tell a whole story without a single full stop?

The challenge; minimum one hundred words-- Remember that semi colons and parentheses are your friends.

This is the longest one I've ever managed, 550 words long-- such as it is. I know a woman who used to create fabulous sentences, each one 1,200 words-- but the medication is helping now. ;)
Click to expand...

An interesting challenge. I spend so much time correcting run-ons, I don't know if I can make one log enough. I'll give it a try when I'm not so filled with wine.
 
CeriseNoire said:
An interesting challenge. I spend so much time correcting run-ons, I don't know if I can make one log enough. I'll give it a try when I'm not so filled with wine.
Click to expand...

With wine might be the best time :)
 
CeriseNoire said:
when I'm not so filled with wine.
Click to expand...

That's... that's really vivid. You should develop that if you haven't already.
Sorry, this violates the long sentence challenge... funny, it's hard to do it when you're thinking too much. At least it feels hard to me.
 
elsol said:
With wine might be the best time :)
Click to expand...

Pehaps you're right...

He loved her more than she could bear, in that way that means responsibility so big it's frightful (could you ever imagine being loved so intensely), yet the love wasn't enough; after all she needed assurance that everything would be OK, promises that they would actually be together, and that this wasn't just a dream, but all he could offer was romance and theoretical beautiful sentiments; it wasn't enough and she knew it would never be, yet she didn't know if she was strong enough to break his heart (being broken up with she was used to, but breaking up with anyone, that was new territory).

114 words. Not much, but more than usual.
 
hmmnmm said:
That's... that's really vivid. You should develop that if you haven't already.
Sorry, this violates the long sentence challenge... funny, it's hard to do it when you're thinking too much. At least it feels hard to me.
Click to expand...

Maybe I can write an attempt at a poem. I'll put it in my notebook.
 
CeriseNoire said:
Pehaps you're right...

He loved her more than she could bear, in that way that means responsibility so big it's frightful (could you ever imagine being loved so intensely), yet the love wasn't enough; after all she needed assurance that everything would be OK, promises that they would actually be together, and that this wasn't just a dream, but all he could offer was romance and theoretical beautiful sentiments; it wasn't enough and she knew it would never be, yet she didn't know if she was strong enough to break his heart (being broken up with she was used to, but breaking up with anyone, that was new territory).

114 words. Not much, but more than usual.
Click to expand...
Not bad! :rose:
 
Stella_Omega said:
Can you tell a whole story without a single full stop?

The challenge; minimum one hundred words-- Remember that semi colons and parentheses are your friends.

This is the longest one I've ever managed, 550 words long-- such as it is. I know a woman who used to create fabulous sentences, each one 1,200 words-- but the medication is helping now. ;)
Click to expand...


But why??

In my writing I do my damndest to make sure I DON'T use long sentences. It severely strains the concentration levels of the reader.

:confused: :confused: :confused: :confused: :confused:

(Adding the point that if I had been your editor on that section, I would have had a near heart-attack when I read it, and been happy to 'red-pen', removing semi-colons and inserting fullstops/capital letters/new sentences all over the place.)

*blink*
 
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