You know you wanted part two of the Gloriously Awkward Sentences. I have finally finished this pass of editing (I’m not too happy with the last five chapters in that everything feels rushed, so I’ll be bucking those up).
Part One is here.
In the meantime, take a look at more weird sentences, likely typed at 4 am.
Past her, on the blanket, the four little girls stood.
A prime example of Queens grammar if ever there was one. Notice the backwards construction.
With September and the rain that had come in August had come an autumnal chill and with that autumnal chill had come, the scullery maid had cleaned all the necessary grates and the fireplaces had been lit for the first time since Mr. Hogwood passed.
Run-on. Not to mention it doesn’t make any sense.
“Mrs. Hamilton walks in looking Mr. Hamilton.”
Looking for? Looking at?
Everything looked the same in darkness.
Not, technically, a terrible sentence, except that I meant the darkness made it hard for the pov character to distinguish between the walls and doors, for instance, and I read it as “everything looks the same as it does when it’s daylight.” Which, in the era of candles, it wouldn’t.
“It was all I could do to not ask Mrs. Armstrong about why she let such a sinner stay under the roof of the vicarage for so long…”
It was all I could do to not stumble across this when I read it aloud.
Hidden in gloves, Pearl examined her hands as if she had never looked upon them before.
Pearl, you looking at your gloves or your hands? You have X-Ray vision?
The footman left Lady Windham in the foyer to convey her calling card to Lady Banston.
Either the footman went to take the calling card or left Lady Windham to take the card to Lady Banston herself. In which case, he should be fired.
“I realize it’s your private affairs,” Mrs. Armstrong said.
Her bonnet was a pale yellowy color that should not have looked atop her coiled auburn hair, but it did.
Should not have looked what?
“Is everything being said have to do with the incident at the party?”
Oy. Having to do. Relating to.