I recently read a series of Cold War spy thrillers. They were intricately plotted, based on meticulous research. I was told the make and model of every weapon and every vehicle. I even learned how they sounded. But the characters were cardboard—barely making it to 2 dimensions. The writing style was stilted and often confusing. In many cases, the author’s sentences were, frankly, awful. And that made me think about writing a blog on bad sentences.
What makes sentences bad, or even awful?
Let me show you examples, from those same spy thrillers, of the kind of sentences I’m targeting. They are shown in green. (I’ve changed identifying names but the rest, including punctuation, is as published.)
Rant #1: complicated sentences
Example 1
He started to wonder how long this particular rendezvous point had been used, what secrets had Smith exchanged, and how many lives had been ruined from what cyclists, or innocent pedestrians taking a stroll by what was once London’s main artery for industry, would appear to be just two men enjoying a short break from their busy work lives.
What’s wrong with this example?
Better question: is anything right with it?
Could you follow example 1 without reading it more than once?
I would suggest example 1 could be made less confusing if it were reworked as follows:
He started to wonder how long this particular rendezvous point had been used. What secrets had Smith exchanged? And how many lives had been ruined? To cyclists, or innocent pedestrians taking a stroll by what was once London’s main artery for industry, the two men would have appeared to be just enjoying a short break from their busy work lives.
Not one sentence; FOUR sentences.
Example 2
Can you follow this at first reading?
He also knew that selecting this file, marked MYTHMAKER, he had assured himself, as there were very little contents due to this operation being scrapped a few days after it had been commissioned, meant there would be enough room inside it to conceal Smith’s personnel file.
Reworking example 2 requires a lot more changes. Try this:
He selected a file marked MYTHMAKER. The operation had been scrapped a few days after it was commissioned which meant that the file contained very little. There would be enough room inside it to conceal Smith’s personnel file.
This time, one convoluted sentence becomes THREE sentences. And it’s not only clearer, it’s shorter. To use the vernacular: what’s not to like?
Your challenge on long sentences
Do you ever write sentences as convoluted as examples 1 and 2?
If so, hang your head in shame. Especially if you are self-published and do not use a professional editor to check your work.
These examples are from commercially published fiction, but I suspect the editorial side of the small press didn’t have the professional skills to deal with writing as awful as this. At least, I hope that’s their excuse.
Long sentences: lessons for authors?
Avoid long convoluted sentences with many subordinate clauses or phrases. They risk confusing readers. They can also appear pretentious.- Read your work aloud. If the author had done so, I suspect he would have fallen over the two examples I have quoted. And then, perhaps, he might have simplified them.
- Employ a professional copy editor. Use Beta readers as well and ask them to tell you where they were confused or where they fell over your sentences. Better to know before you publish. Otherwise, paying readers may write reviews slating your writing style.
Rant #2: the dangers of sentences with participial phrases
The British Council’s website has a section on what they call participle clauses. It stresses that participle clauses are mainly used in literary or academic written texts and in journalism. Not so appropriate in popular fiction, perhaps? There’s also a helpful website article here on understanding participial phrases.
What’s a participial phrase? (Skip this if you already know)
A participial phrase contains a present participle (the -ing form of a verb), or a past participle (usually the -ed form of a verb), or, less commonly, a perfect participle (the having -ed form of a verb, such as “having walked there”). The phrase usually contains other words too. The whole phrase modifies a noun or pronoun.
Participial phrases involving past and perfect participles are not used much and so I shan’t spend much time on them. But, for clarity, a sentence using a past participial phrase might be: “Deserted by his wife, Jack sank into depression and began to drink heavily.” The past participle is “Deserted” and the whole phrase before the comma modifies the noun “Jack”. I would add here that it’s an inelegant sentence. It does imply cause and effect—good—but it also suggests a very abbreviated timeline. It would have been better, in my opinion, to write: “After his wife deserted him, Jack sank into depression and began to drink heavily.”
Participial phrases can go awry
Participial phrases are often used wrongly. What’s more, they are often unnecessary, as in my Jack example above. In many cases, turning a sentence round is a better and clearer way of getting the point across.
A participial phrase most often contains a present participle (the -ing form of a verb). So, in example 3 below, you will find the present participles “Arriving” and “Entering”. The “Arriving” participial phrase modifies the noun “Fletcher”. The “Entering” participial phrase modifies the pronoun “he”.
Example 3
Arriving in the small market town, Fletcher had memorised a street map of the area showing the location of the Smith’s country cottage. Entering the narrow, steep streets of Anywhere, he checked the street names.
This example was published like this. The author’s style includes many, many sentences beginning with a participial phrase. Repeated in this way*, they grate, don’t they?
[*That’s an example of a past participial phrase. You spotted it, didn’t you?]
The problem in example 3 is more than just the repetition of the sentence structure. There are other dangers in using participial phrases.
Danger 1: Timeline, or cause and effect
The time sequence has to be right. If the participial phrase relates to timing, it should refer to the same time as the rest of the sentence. Alternatively, the participial phrase gives the cause and the rest of the sentence provides the effect (as in my own example of Jack sinking into depression).
In example 3, it’s a time relationship: when did Fletcher memorise the map? While arriving at the town? (Difficult while driving.) Or before? The use of “had memorised” suggests it was before he reached the town. So that present participial phrase is all wrong, isn’t it? The two things are not happening at the same time. It would make better sense if he had written:
Before setting off for the small market town, Fletcher had memorised a street map of the area showing the location of Smith’s country cottage.
The second sentence in example 3 is debatable, too. How many street names was Fletcher checking at the same time as he entered the town of Anywhere? Did the author really mean:
He checked the name of each one of the steep, narrow streets he entered.
Danger 2: modifying the wrong word
As I said earlier, the participial phrase modifies a noun or pronoun. The reader needs to know which word the phrase is modifying. So the convention is that the phrase modifies the noun or pronoun immediately after the phrase. (Sometimes, the phrase comes after the noun or pronoun it modifies.)
Example 4
The woman rose out of the chair, shaking Fletcher’s hand.
Oh dear. Who, or what, was shaking Fletcher’s hand? The chair? As written, that’s what the sentence implies. Why? Because the participial phrase is normally understood to modify the noun or pronoun immediately before or after the phrase. The “shaking Fletcher’s hand” phrase needs to modify “The woman.” It doesn’t.
If the writer is desperate to use a participial phrase, it could have been:
Rising out of her chair, the woman shook Fletcher’s hand.
BUT both versions also succumb to Danger 1. They imply that she shook Fletcher’s hand while she was rising from her chair. I suspect that wasn’t the intention. I think the author meant that the woman rose and then she shook hands.
Better to write:
The woman rose out of her chair to shake Fletcher’s hand.
Example 5
The station master had also been helpful and, after rifling through the ticket summaries to match the time of purchases, she was happy with the information she had received.
Who rifled through the ticket summaries? I suspect it was the station master, rather than “she”. Whichever of the two did the rifling, the sentence is unclear. It could be clarified in two ways:
The station master had also been helpful and, after rifling through the ticket summaries to match the time of purchases, he provided her with the information she needed.
The station master had also been helpful and provided ticket summaries to match the time of purchases. After rifling through them, she found information she was happy with.
Participial phrases: lessons for authors?
- Avoid using participial phrases unless you’re very sure you can get them right.
- Employ a copy editor as I have suggested. They will correct your mistakes. But it is better not to make the mistakes in the first place.
- If you do use participial phrases, make sure the timeline or cause/effect works. Avoid suggesting that two things are happening at once if that is impossible (as in Fletcher memorising the map while driving).
- Make sure the phrase is next to the noun or pronoun it modifies and make sure, too, that the sentence makes sense. No more chairs shaking hands, please.
Thank you,
I Pedantique-Ryter







Participial phrases, argh! They are so often confusing. I try to eliminate them if I find I’ve used them. It’s one of the pitfalls for the early novelist, I think, because one sees them used in reading and they “look” competent. Easy to follow suit without noting the ambiguity.
Very wise of you, m’dear. Your suggestion that they “look competent” has much to tell us. Yes, I do believe some authors use them for precisely that reason. Or perhaps for “elegant variation”, another sin on which I may have more to say, one of these days.
So easy to fall into the trap of “elegant variation”, dear Dame. A masterclass!
Thank you, Liz, dear gel. I hope you found it helpful. Though I am sure that an author of your standing would not fall into any of these traps.
Just the sight of a participial phrase makes me bristle. They nearly always sound artificial. I can’t ever remember hearing someone use one in conversation, for instance.
Also, they are so often used for stuff that an author thinks need to be accounted for but really isn’t interested in. So he/she/they shoves it into a participial phrase to get it out of the way. I suspect that quite often they can be edited out and the reader will fill in any possible gap instinctively.
Excellent rant, honoured Dame.
Thank you, Sophie dear. You are correct that participial phrases are hardly ever used in speech, even by the most erudite. You may also be right about how authors use them. An interesting take on the subject.
Thank you for your wise words, Dame Isadora. I have just started going through the first draft of my my latest wip, so this is very timely!
But I do not expect an author with your experience to make mistakes like these. Goodness me, no. However, you are wise to check your MS carefully before submitting it, as I am sure you do. Thank you for your message, dear Sarah.