It’s a strange thing to feel such pessimism and optimism at the same time.
By Gary Provost
“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.”
I’ve told this story before but it had a huge impact on my outlook of life. I used to work at a group home for adults with mental disabilities. One woman in particular was just a genuine angel. Always positive, outgoing, friendly, hard-working, and just absolutely a pleasure to be around. One time we were at the store and these two teenage boys started laughing at her and whispering loudly about the retard. I was getting furious but she just turned to me and asked if I wanted a bag of skittles. When we left the store I mentioned how well she handled herself. She just looked over at me and grinned and said: “I could see you getting mad. I thought maybe skittles would make you feel better.” She’s got a far better grasp of how to live than I ever will.
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