Most of us recognize good writing when we see it, but we don't often interrupt our sheer delight in a passage to analyze it.  We don't ask what it was that made that particular group of words stand out. We simply move on, anxious to read more of "the good stuff." The same sort of thing happens with bad writing, although our responses are more varied. Sometimes we just nod off over a book or article because it is not interesting enough to keep our minds alert.  Other times, we put the book down and forget we were trying to read it.  This is the time of year when teachers at every level are reading term papers and final exam essays. When the writing is really bad, we shake our heads in despair, and slap a C- on the paper. And once again, we move on in search of something better, without taking the time to figure out exactly what it was that elicited our sighs.

This sentence has five words. Here are five more words. Five-word sentences are fine. But several together become monotonous. Listen to what is happening. The writing is getting boring. The sound of it drones. It’s like a stuck record. The ear demands some variety. Now listen. I vary the sentence length, and I create music. Music. The writing sings. It has a pleasant rhythm, a lilt, a harmony. I use short sentences. And I use sentences of medium length. And sometimes, when I am certain the reader is rested, I will engage him with a sentence of considerable length, a sentence that burns with energy and builds with all the impetus of a crescendo, the roll of the drums, the crash of the cymbals–sounds that say listen to this, it is important.