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Steering clear. Of an angry world.
Imagine. The agony I went through. When reading The Autumn of the Patriarch. By Gabriel Garcia Marquez. Laborious
single sentences. Running for a page or two or three. Maybe four. I lost count.
Of course, he’s recognized as brilliant and inventive. A great writer. I try to
be simple and ordinary. Recognizing that I’m not so great. But still, I’m
imaginative. And daring. To rewrite Marquez. Into short sentences. More my
style. Easier for me. To appreciate. To grasp. In meaningful ways that the
writer may never have intended. When
that happens, I’ve encountered a truly gifted writer. Because he/she stimulated
my mind and emotions. And drew me in. As a participant. --Jim
Guess I am just and old fashioned subject-predicate reader. Thanks for throwing in a couple of comas.
I grab a copy of cited work from our library and give it a go.