March 11th, 2010:

Run-On Sentences: What They Are (And What They Are Not)

In this series of articles, I hope to dethrone some of the myths of writing that many of us learn in grade-school English. First up is the myth of the run-on sentence. We should begin by recognizing that there is an error called a run-on sentence. I will address that error shortly. First, though, I need to address the myth, written below.

Is Mr. Gump a run-on man, or just a man who runs a long way?

The Myth of the Run-on Sentence:

A run-on sentence is a long sentence. Any time you write a very long sentence, it is a run-on sentence. The notion of “run-on” describes the long nature of the sentence; that is, the long sentence runs on and on.

This myth needs to be busted right now. (Although, unlike the popular myth-busting television show, my myth-busting will involve neither exploding fuel tanks, nor handlebar-mustached bald men swimming with man-eating sharks.) Contrary to what we may learn from the teachers of early childhood, long sentences are not run-on sentences. Further, people should feel free to write long sentences, when doing so serves their purposes.

You may recall me mentioning that there is an actual error known as a run-on sentence. If that run-on error is not defined as a long sentence, then what exactly is a run-on sentence? Simple: a run-on sentence is writing two (or more) sentences together, with no punctuation or connecting words between them. They can be long, but they are often short.

One caveat: many teachers now have a new name for run-on sentences: fused sentences. Such educators use this term to avoid confusion with the term run-on sentence. While I do find the term fused sentence more specific and literal than run-on sentence, I stick with the original term when explaining this grammatical error to students and readers. Why? I hope to return the language to its correct usage. For me to change terms because other people create false definitions is for me to say, “It’s fine for people to get their terms wrong. If others (who don’t know what the heck they’re talking about) use the term run-on to mean long sentences, they should feel free to keep using it that way (that is, the wrong way). Instead of correcting the misuse of the term, run-on sentence, I will just step aside and use the term fused sentence.” Nonsense! It’s time to get our terms right. With that purpose in mind, here are the terms that I propose using for these writing practices:

Run-On Sentence: The writer runs two sentences together with no punctuation.

Long Sentence: A long sentence

How to Fix Run-On Sentences

What do run-on sentences look like? Here is an example of a true run-on sentence. Note its brevity:

I enjoy Facebook the status comments are fun.

Here are the two sentences, written separately:

1. I enjoy Facebook.
2. The status comments are fun.

This run-on (like most of them) is easy to fix. Dividing the parts into two separate sentences, although in some cases a legitimate option, is not the best way to fix this particular run-on. Think about it: the writer probably put them together because their messages are related. The writer should show that connection by combining the sentences using punctuation and/or combining words. Here are two quick ways to combine those sentences into a single statement:

I enjoy Facebook; the status comments are fun. (Semicolon—shows an unspoken connection.)

I enjoy Facebook because the status comments are fun. (Relative adverb “because”—shows effect-cause)

Or, you might try revising for more enriched sentence structures, like this one:

Facebook’s status comments are fun, so I enjoy using that site.

The combining word here is “so.” Particularly, “so” is what we call a “coordinating conjunction.” The other six coordinating conjunctions are and, yet, but, or, for, and nor. Always choose the best coordinating conjunction to express the relationship between the two related sentences.

Here is yet another way to express the cause-effect relationship between the two sentence parts:

Since its status comments are fun, I enjoy Facebook.

In the example above, I reversed the effect-cause order to create a cause-effect order. This reversal involved placing the relative adverb “since” at the beginning of the sentence. I could do this with the earlier example sentence involving  “because.” Here is that sentence, reordered:

Because the status comments are fun, I enjoy Facebook.

Finally, if I want a bit of additional clarity, I might try something completely different:

I enjoy Facebook for its status comments, a feature that I find incredibly fun.

And so on. The sky’s the limit.

Comma Splice and Run-On Sentence: Essentially the Same Error

If you read my articles on commas, you may recall an error called the comma splice. A run-on sentence is quite similar to a comma splice, in that both involve running two sentences together without the adequate degree of connective material.

To review, a comma splice (literally, a “comma joining”) uses only a comma to connect two sentences. Here is an example:

I enjoy Facebook, the status comments are fun. (Comma Splice)

The formula for a comma splice looks like this:

(Sentence) + (Comma) + (Sentence) = Comma Splice

Similarly, a run-on uses nothing to connect the two sentences. It just runs them together:

I enjoy Facebook the status comments are fun.

The formula for a run-on sentence looks like this:

(Sentence) + (Nothing) + (Sentence) = Run-On Sentence

As the examples above demonstrate, the comma splice and the run-on sentence are very similar. In fact, they differ only by one comma. For this reason, I consider the comma splice a special type of run-on sentence. The key to addressing both of these issues is simply knowing that you need more than a comma—and, of course, more than nothing—to combine two full-blown sentences.

Here are some options:

1. Semicolon (;) (This shows an unspoken connection and creates a slightly longer pause than a comma.)

Example Sentence: The term, fused sentence, is specific; I still prefer run-on sentence.

2. Comma + Coordinating Conjunction:

The Seven Coordinating Conjunctions: and, but, yet, so, or, nor, for

Example Sentence: The term, fused sentence, is specific, but I prefer run-on sentence.

3. Relative Adverbs and Pronouns (sometimes with commas, sometimes not)

Some Relative Adverbs: because, since, although, though, which, while, etc.

Example Sentence: While the term, fused sentence, is specific, I prefer run-on sentence.

4. Semicolon + Conjunctive Adverb + Comma

Some conjunctive adverbs: however, thus, therefore, hence, moreover, furthermore, etc.

Example Sentence: The term, fused sentence, is specific; however, I prefer run-on sentence.

A note on conjunctive adverbs: Use semicolon + conjunctive adverb + comma formations when combining two large or impacting sentences, especially in formal writing. Use them when you are trying to express a point of some gravity, to make the reader pause between the sentences and say, “Oh, the writer’s about to drop something heavy on me. I’d better pay attention.” Think of these conjunctive adverbs as emphatic versions of coordinating conjunctions. For example, the conjunctive adverb however serves much the same function as the coordinating conjunction (but); however, the conjunctive adverb is stronger—more emphatic—than the coordinating conjunction. It makes for a stronger break in the sentence structure. When you need to place extra emphasis on the but-ness of a sentence, make sure to use however.

5. In some cases, specialized punctuation works. For example, in cases where you are making a statement that expresses equal identity or renames the thing being discussed, try a colon.

Example: Here’s the problem with run-on sentences: too many people don’t know what the heck they are.

This is to say . . .

The problem with run-on sentences = too many people don’t know what the heck they are.

(Note on colons: I think of the colon as the equal sign of writing. Heck, they even look a bit alike. If that analogy works for you, then feel free to use it.)

Is There Any Truth in the Myth?

Long sentences are not run-on sentences—fair enough. But can’t a long sentence still be bad? Isn’t there a point where a long, meandering sentence loses your reader’s interest, making him feel that he is being drawn into an endless vortex of words, one that spirals ever away from the core content of the sentence, where the poor reader, by the end, feels like he would be better off reading, say, a good science-fiction novel (like Richard K. Morgan’s Altered Carbon—one of the most fascinating, and horrifying, visions of humanity’s future), since he feels that your writing leads him down a linguistic rabbit hole into some other world of meaning, in the very same way that this sentence (the one you are finishing now) does?

Sure. This happens with excessively long sentence structures, especially those that lack unifying elements, like the sentence above. Even so, writing lengthy sentences is a matter of style—not a matter of grammar. It is a matter of knowing your audience. For example, if I was writing a handout on verbs for fifth graders, I would not want to use terribly long sentence structures. I would stick with short, to-the-point statements. But to use those same sentence structures when writing a tutorial for my college composition students would be to insult my readers’ intelligence. When making decisions about sentence length, do not think in terms of right and wrong; think instead in terms of effective and ineffective, appropriate and inappropriate.

Sentence length is not only a matter of audience, but also of the writer. Most elementary-school teachers forbid children from attempting long sentences because those children lack the control (and the attention span) to be able to compose long sentences that are cohesive, or even readable. Like the child who cannot yet operate the stove, the fledgling writer cannot yet handle long sentences. Children should first master the essentials of short sentences (subjects, predicates, and basic content) before moving on to expressing long, complex notions.

Still, when does long become too long? Is there a standard maximum length for sentences? If so, where do we draw that line? Should we figure that all sentences should remain between one and five lines long?  Should we say that a sentence taking up an entire paragraph is too long? Should we set any limits at all?

You tell me. Consider the following sentence, taken from Martin Luther King’s “Letter From Birmingham Jail.” Is it effective? Despite its great length, does it flow well? Does it keep you reading?

Perhaps it is easy for those who have never felt the stinging darts of segregation to say, “Wait.” But when you have seen vicious mobs lynch your mothers and fathers at will and drown your sisters and brothers at whim; when you have seen hate-filled policemen curse, kick, and even kill your black brothers and sisters; when you see the vast majority of your twenty million Negro brothers smothering in an airtight cage of poverty in the midst of an affluent society; when you suddenly find your tongue twisted and your speech stammering as you seek to explain to your six-year-old daughter why she can’t go to the public amusement park that has just been advertised on television, and see tears welling up in her eyes when she is told that Funtown is closed to colored children, and see ominous clouds of inferiority beginning to form in her little mental sky, and see her beginning to distort her personality by developing an unconscious bitterness toward white people; when you have to concoct an answer for a five-year-old son who is asking, “Daddy, why do white people treat colored people so mean?”; when you take a cross-country drive and find it necessary to sleep night after night in the uncomfortable corners of your automobile because no motel will accept you; when you are humiliated day in and day out by nagging signs reading “white” and “colored”; when your first name becomes “nigger,” your middle name becomes “boy” (however old you are), and your last name becomes “John,” and your wife and mother are never given the respected title “Mrs.”; when you are harried by day and haunted by night by the fact that you are a Negro, living constantly at tiptoe stance, never quite knowing what to expect next, and are plagued with inner fears and outer resentments; when you are forever fighting a degenerating sense of “nobodiness”–then you will understand why we find it difficult to wait.

MLK: A great American civil-rights leader, but also a great American writer.

With the exception of the first line, that paragraph is one sentence. Stunningly powerful, isn’t it? Think about the elements that keep the reader on track. Do you see any repeating patterns? How might such patterns function to unify the sentence? Also, does the unity of the sentence’s content (what it says) reflect the unity of the sentence’s style (how it says it)? Since King is talking about the notion of having to wait, do you think he might be trying to make the reader wait for the end of the sentence? Why might he do this? These are all points of consideration.

Still, I wonder how many would write “run-on error” beside this sentence? I’d like to think not too many, although people—even some English teachers—surprise me. If MLK had taken that approach, we would not have this impacting, moving sentence. I am glad he ignored the conventional wisdom of grade-school English and chose effective writing instead. We should do the same.

Are there times, though, when the conventions of grade-school English are good? Are the teachers of our early childhood right to teach the myths of grade-school English? The next article, “True for Children, Not for Adults” answers these questions—and more. Stay tuned.

Works Cited

King, Martin Luther, Jr. “Letter from Birmingham Jail.” The Autobiography of Martin Luther King, Jr. Ed. Clayborne Carson.New York: Warner Books, 1998. 188-204.

Christopher Altman, a community-college composition specialist, is passionate about bringing the art of effective writing to average, everyday Americans. He has published work in the field of medieval literature, and has authored a book on advertising language entitled, Telling the Truth to Deceive: How Advertisers Manipulate the English Language. Mr. Altman is an assistant professor of English at Onondaga Community College in Syracuse, New York.