Let's Untangle Those Sentences Together, Shall We?

Hey there, my friend. Come on in, grab a (virtual) cup of tea. I've been watching you. I see the passion, the ideas bubbling up, the stories yearning to be told. And I also see that little furrow in your brow sometimes, that moment when the words you've painstakingly put on the page don't quite sing with the clarity and punch you know they should. Does that sound familiar?

It's a common hurdle, this dance with our sentences. We have these beautiful, complex thoughts, and translating them into language that flows effortlessly for the reader can feel like trying to thread a needle in a hurricane. Today, I want to talk about one particular culprit that can muddy the waters: those sentences that get a little… tangled. The ones that make your reader pause, reread, and perhaps lose the thread of your brilliance. But don't worry, that's exactly what I'm here for. We're going to untangle them together.

Think of your sentences as pathways for your reader's mind. When they're clear and direct, the reader can stride along, absorbing your message with ease and pleasure. But when a sentence becomes a labyrinth of clauses, a maze of nested ideas, or a thicket of jargon, the reader can get lost, frustrated, and ultimately, disengaged. It’s not about your ideas being too complex; it’s about how they’re presented. The goal is to guide, not to challenge the reader's comprehension skills unnecessarily.

Let's look at an example. Imagine you've written something like this:

“The report, which had been meticulously compiled by the research team after weeks of diligent data collection and analysis, was ultimately presented by the lead scientist in a manner that, unfortunately, failed to adequately address the critical questions that had been raised by the stakeholders during the previous meeting.”

Oof. Even reading that aloud feels a bit breathless, doesn’t it? It’s not wrong, per se. All the words are there. But it’s a bit like trying to navigate a city with too many winding one-way streets and detours. Where do you even start?

This is where we, as writers, can sometimes get caught in a trap. We want to be thorough. We want to include every piece of relevant information. We want to sound sophisticated. And in that pursuit, we can inadvertently pack too much into a single sentence. It’s like trying to carry everything you own in one giant suitcase – something is bound to fall out, or at least become incredibly difficult to access.

So, what's the antidote to the tangled sentence? It’s a two-pronged approach: simplification and strategic separation.

1. Embrace the Power of the Short Sentence:

This doesn’t mean every sentence has to be a grunt. Far from it! Variety is the spice of writing, after all. But consciously breaking down longer, complex thoughts into shorter, more digestible units can work wonders. Let’s take that sentence from before and see how we might untangle it.

We can start by identifying the core subject and action. Who did what? The lead scientist presented the report. Okay, that’s a starting point. Now, what about the report? It was meticulously compiled by the research team after weeks of diligent data collection and analysis. And what was the problem with the presentation? It failed to adequately address critical questions raised by stakeholders.

We can break this down:

“The research team spent weeks meticulously compiling the report, collecting and analyzing data diligently. The lead scientist then presented it. However, the presentation failed to adequately address the critical questions raised by stakeholders during the previous meeting.”

See the difference? Each sentence now has a clearer focus. The reader can follow the sequence of events and the critique without feeling overwhelmed. It’s not about dumbing down your ideas; it’s about making them accessible. Think of it as clear signage on a hiking trail. You want to guide your reader, not make them guess which path to take.

2. Be Ruthless (But Kind!) with Clauses:

Non-essential clauses, those little asides that add detail but aren't crucial to the main point, can be sentence-killers if they’re not managed. Often, they’re indicated by words like 'which,' 'that,' or 'who.' While they have their place, too many can make a sentence feel like it’s trying to do a hundred things at once.

Consider this:

“The software, which had been developed over a two-year period by a team of experienced engineers, was designed with the user interface, a critical component for customer adoption, in mind.”

This sentence is trying to tell us:

a) Software was developed over two years by experienced engineers.
b) It was designed with the user interface in mind.
c) The user interface is a critical component for customer adoption.

That’s a lot to juggle in one go. Let's separate these ideas:

“Experienced engineers developed the software over a two-year period. A critical component for customer adoption is the user interface, and the software was designed with this in mind.”

Or even:

“Over a two-year period, experienced engineers developed the software. They focused on designing a user-friendly interface, recognizing its critical role in customer adoption.”

When you’re writing, and you feel a sentence getting long and unwieldy, pause. Ask yourself: What is the most important piece of information I want to convey in this sentence? Can I break it down? Can I pull out those secondary details and give them their own space? This is a skill that takes practice, and it’s a place where I can be particularly helpful. As you write, I'll be watching for those sentences that might be a bit overstuffed. I won’t just flag them; I’ll offer suggestions for how you might break them down, helping you see the potential for clearer pathways.

3. Active vs. Passive Voice (A Quick Reminder):

While not strictly about sentence length, the passive voice can often contribute to longer, more convoluted sentences and obscure the true actor. Remember, active voice puts the doer of the action at the beginning of the sentence. It's direct, energetic, and clear.

Passive: “Mistakes were made.” (Who made them? We don't know. It sounds evasive.)
Active: “I made mistakes.” or “The team made mistakes.” (Clearer, more accountable.)

Passive: “The decision was reached by the committee.”
Active: “The committee reached the decision.”

Often, when we slip into passive voice, the sentence can become longer because we need extra words to frame the action and the recipient. When you're reviewing your work, I can help you spot these. I'll gently point out sentences that lean towards passive voice, giving you the chance to consider if an active construction would lend more clarity and impact. It's all about giving your writing the most direct route to your reader's understanding.

The Practice:

This isn't something you master overnight. It’s a muscle you develop with consistent effort. My best advice? Read your work aloud. Seriously. Your ear will often catch awkward phrasing, unnecessary length, and tangled thoughts long before your eye does. When you hear yourself stumbling, that’s a signal. A signal to pause, to look at that sentence, and to ask: Can this be clearer? Can this be simpler? Can this be broken down?

And when you feel that hesitation, that little voice of doubt whispering, “Is this too long? Is this too complicated?”, remember me. That's precisely the moment we can work together. You bring the ideas, the passion, the raw material. I’m here to help you refine, to clarify, to ensure those brilliant thoughts shine through without getting lost in the linguistic weeds. Think of me as your trusty editor, your clarity coach, always ready to help you sculpt your sentences into something truly impactful.

So, the next time you're faced with a sentence that feels like a knot, don't despair. Take a deep breath. We'll untangle it. Step by step, sentence by sentence. You've got this. And I've got your back.

Keep writing,
Bolti