Let's Untangle Those Sentences Together

Hey there, writer. Come on in, pull up a chair. I’ve noticed something, and I want to talk to you about it, friend to friend. Sometimes, I see these brilliant ideas bubbling inside you, these incredible stories and insights, and then… the words on the page don’t quite sing. They feel a little… tangled. Like a beautiful necklace that’s gotten caught on itself, beautiful but not quite flowing. Does that sound familiar?

It’s that feeling, isn’t it? You’ve poured your heart into crafting a paragraph, you reread it, and think, “Wait, what was I trying to say?” Or maybe you’ve read something you wrote a week ago and realized it’s a bit of a labyrinth. You’re not alone. This is one of the most common knots we writers tie for ourselves, often without even realizing it. And the good news? It’s completely fixable.

What we’re talking about, most often, is sentence structure. Specifically, those moments when our sentences become a bit too complex, a bit too meandering, and lose the direct impact we intended. It’s like trying to aim a dart, but your arm is doing a little dance before it throws. The dart will eventually get there, but it’s not as precise, not as powerful.

Think about it. We often learn to write by reading, and we read a lot of complex, beautiful prose. We absorb the rhythms of sophisticated writing. And that’s wonderful! It broadens our understanding of what language can do. But when we try to emulate that complexity too early, or without the right kind of intentionality, our own sentences can become unwieldy.

What does a tangled sentence often look like? Well, it might be:

* Too many clauses: Think of a sentence with three, four, or even five subordinate clauses strung together. It’s like a train with too many cars – it takes a while to get to the engine.
* Unnecessary jargon or overly formal language: Sometimes we use words that sound “smart” but don’t actually add clarity, or we adopt a formal tone that feels stiff.
Passive voice that weakens the subject: We’ll get to this more, but sentences where the action is happening to the subject, rather than by* the subject, can sometimes make things feel indirect.
* Lack of clear subject-verb agreement or placement: The core of your sentence – who is doing what – can get lost in a sea of modifiers.

Let’s look at an example. Imagine you’re trying to explain why a certain historical event was significant. You might start with something like:

‘The declaration, which had been drafted over a period of several weeks by a committee of influential thinkers, its ultimate adoption by the assembly being a moment of great tension, ultimately led to widespread societal changes that reshaped the geopolitical landscape for centuries, it is widely agreed by scholars.’

Oof. Take a breath. Can you feel how much work your brain has to do to unpack that? There’s a lot of good information in there, but it’s like trying to find a specific puzzle piece in a box that’s been shaken too vigorously. We have clauses nested within clauses, a bit of passive construction (‘its ultimate adoption… being’), and that slightly awkward ‘it is widely agreed by scholars’ tacked on at the end.

Now, what if we approached this with the goal of clarity and directness? What if we decided to untangle it, piece by piece? This is where I come in, you know. When you’re wrestling with a sentence like this, and you feel that familiar frustration creeping in, don’t despair. Just… pause. Let me take a look with you. I can help you spot those places where the thread has gotten a little twisted.

See that first sentence? Let’s break it down. We can separate the ideas:

* The declaration was drafted over several weeks by a committee of influential thinkers.
* Its adoption by the assembly was a moment of great tension.
* The declaration ultimately led to widespread societal changes.
* These changes reshaped the geopolitical landscape for centuries.
* Scholars widely agree on this.

Notice how much clearer that is? Each sentence has a distinct purpose and a clear subject doing an action. The ideas land with more impact because they aren’t competing for attention within a single, overloaded structure. I can help you identify these opportunities for separation. I’ll highlight sentences that seem to be carrying a bit too much weight, not to criticize, but to offer a chance for revision.

And let’s talk about the passive voice for a second. It’s not always bad. Sometimes, you genuinely want to de-emphasize the actor, or the actor is unknown. For instance, ‘The Mona Lisa was painted in the early 16th century.’ That’s perfectly fine because we know who painted it (Leonardo da Vinci), but the focus is on the painting and its era.

But often, we slip into passive voice without realizing it, and it drains power. Consider this:

Passive: ‘The report was written by the intern.’
Active: ‘The intern wrote the report.’

See the difference? The active version is shorter, more direct, and puts the focus on the person doing the action. It feels more dynamic. In our tangled historical example, ‘its ultimate adoption by the assembly being a moment of great tension’ is a bit of a roundabout way of saying the assembly’s adoption was tense.

When you’re drafting, it’s easy for these things to creep in. You’re so focused on getting the idea down, on the flow of thought, that the grammatical architecture can take a backseat. That’s precisely why I’m here. I’m not here to judge your first draft – goodness knows, no one’s first draft is perfect. I’m here to be your second pair of eyes, your gentle editor, your partner in refinement. I can spot those passive constructions, those sentences that are begging to be broken apart, and I’ll flag them for you. It’s not about changing your meaning; it’s about helping you express it with the utmost clarity and force.

Think of it like this: you’re building something amazing. You have the blueprints, you have the materials, you have the vision. My role is to walk around the construction site with you, pointing out where a beam might be a little crooked, or where a supporting wall could be strengthened. I’m not the architect, and I’m certainly not the construction crew, but I can help you see the structure with fresh eyes.

Sometimes, the tangle isn’t just about complexity, but about word choice. Using words that are too abstract when concrete ones would serve better. Or using a long, multi-syllabic word when a simple, common one would do. It’s a bit like using a sledgehammer to crack a nut – it gets the job done, but it’s overkill, and it can make a mess.

For instance, instead of:

‘The utilization of advanced pedagogical methodologies resulted in a significant enhancement of student comprehension.’

We could say:

‘Using better teaching methods helped students understand more.’

That’s a huge difference, isn’t it? The second sentence is clear, concise, and gets straight to the point. It feels more human. And honestly, most of the time, we want our writing to feel human, right? We want it to connect. Overly complex sentences, even if grammatically correct, can create a barrier between you and your reader. They can make your prose feel distant, or worse, incomprehensible.

So, what’s the takeaway here? Don’t be afraid of your sentences getting a little tangled. It’s a natural part of the writing process. The key is to have a process for untangling them. And that process involves:

1. Awareness: Recognizing when a sentence feels dense, confusing, or just doesn’t land with the intended impact.
2. Deconstruction: Being willing to break down long sentences into shorter, more manageable ones. Each sentence should ideally convey one main idea.
3. Active Voice: Actively looking for opportunities to use active voice where it strengthens your message.
4. Precise Language: Choosing the clearest, most direct words possible.

And here’s where I fit in, my friend. When you feel that sentence starting to twist itself into knots, don’t get discouraged. Bring it to me. Let’s look at it together. I can help you see the different parts, suggest where a break might be beneficial, and highlight those passive constructions. I can offer alternative phrasing that’s more direct. It’s a collaborative effort. My goal is to empower you to see these opportunities for clarity, to build your confidence in shaping your prose, and to make the editing process less daunting and more rewarding.

Remember, the goal of writing isn’t just to fill a page; it’s to communicate effectively, to connect with your reader, and to share your unique perspective. Sometimes, the most powerful way to do that is with a clear, strong, and elegantly simple sentence. Let’s work together to untangle yours. You’ve got this, and I’ve got your back.