It starts innocently enough—a sentence that seems perfectly fine when it first leaves your fingertips…
You’re on a roll, the ideas keep flowing, and before you know it, your thought has stretched into a tangled, gasping marathon of clauses and commas.
Uh-oh…
By the time you reach the period, you’ve forgotten where you began. The result?
A reader lost somewhere in the thicket of your own enthusiasm.
In the world of writing, this is what Joseph Bizup and Joseph M. Williams call sprawl. It’s the literary equivalent of taking a scenic route without a map—charming at first, but eventually exhausting.
In their acclaimed book, “Style: Lessons in Clarity and Grace,” Bizup and Williams invite readers to rethink how sentences breathe, move, and lead the eye.
Their lesson?
Graceful prose isn’t just about correctness; it’s also about rhythm, focus, and flow.
The Problem with Sprawl
When a sentence sprawls, it loses direction. Bizup and Williams illustrate this with an example that begins clearly but quickly unravels into a string of dependent clauses:
“No scientific advance is more exciting than genetic engineering, which is a new way of manipulating the elemental structural units of life itself, which are the genes and chromosomes that tell our cells how to reproduce to become the parts that constitute our bodies.”
Each “which” and “that” drags the reader further from the main point, forcing them to backtrack just to keep up.
The authors liken this experience to reading while holding your breath—you can finish, but not comfortably.
Their advice is refreshingly practical: When you sense a sentence spiraling out of control, look for its relative pronouns (who, which, that). These are often breadcrumbs leading to clutter.
If a reader stumbles or runs out of breath before the sentence ends, it’s a sign your prose needs trimming.
Bizup and Williams outline four simple but transformative ways to tame sprawling sentences: cut, separate, modify, and coordinate.
Each method restores clarity, but more importantly, it restores grace, which is the elusive quality separating clear writing from elegant writing.
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Cut
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Turn Subordinate Clauses into Independent Sentences
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Change Clauses to Modifying Phrases
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Coordinate
The simplest and often the most liberating fix is to delete what isn’t essential.
Writers tend to stack clauses like Lego bricks, hoping the structure will hold… but more often than not, a cleaner, more direct version already exists within the sentence.
Removing unnecessary “which is” or “that are” phrases can immediately declutter a line.
Before: “The day is coming when we will all have numbers that will identify our financial transactions so that the IRS can monitor all activities that involve economic activity.”
After: “The day is coming when we will all have numbers identifying our financial transactions so the IRS can monitor all economic activity.”
See? That’s just a subtle shift, but the difference feels like fresh air.
Sometimes the issue isn’t the words themselves, but how tightly they’ve been packed together.
Bizup and Williams suggest giving each idea its own space. What was once buried in a subordinate clause can become a full, breathing thought of its own.
“Many areas of science are important to our future, but few are more promising than genetic engineering. It is a new way of manipulating the elemental structural units of life itself—the genes and chromosomes that tell our cells how to reproduce.”
Shorter sentences create momentum. They also give readers the pause they need to absorb meaning before moving forward.
Here’s where the art comes in. Instead of cutting or splitting, writers can reshape their sentences by using modifiers or phrases that extend an idea without bogging it down.
Bizup and Williams highlight three especially elegant types: resumptive, summative, and free modifiers.
A resumptive modifier repeats a key word before extending it, giving the sentence a sense of rhythm:
“It was American writers who found a voice that was both true and lyrical, true to the rhythms of the working man’s speech and lyrical in its celebration of his labor.”
A summative modifier wraps up what came before in a single summarizing phrase:
“Economic changes have reduced Russian population growth to less than zero, a demographic event that will have serious social implications.”
A free modifier, on the other hand, offers commentary, emotion, or movement:
“Leonardo da Vinci was a man of powerful intellect, driven by an insatiable curiosity and haunted by a vision of artistic perfection.”
These tools allow writers to extend sentences gracefully, letting ideas breathe without losing their shape.
Finally, there’s coordination or the art of balance. Instead of chaining clauses with which or that, coordination uses structure and rhythm to connect ideas on equal footing.
When done well, it transforms a clumsy sprawl into a poised composition.
Before: “The aspiring artist may find that even a minor, unfinished work which was botched may be an instructive model for how things should be done…”
After: “For the aspiring artist, the minor, the unfinished, or even the botched work may be an instructive model for how things should—and should not—be done.”
Here, coordination doesn’t just tidy up syntax; it also turns the sentence into music.
The Hidden Grace of Style
What Bizup and Williams remind readers is that clarity is only the first step toward mastery.
True grace in writing emerges when clarity meets rhythm, when structure supports thought, and when every word earns its place.
Their approach transforms writing from a mechanical act into a mindful craft.
Sentences stop being merely functional; they start to feel intentional—alive even. Each pause and phrase becomes an opportunity to guide the reader not just through information, but also through experience.
… and in a world where attention is fleeting, that kind of writing isn’t just elegant—it’s powerful!
Besides, great writing doesn’t hide behind complexity. It stands in the open, confident in its clarity.
Bizup and Williams’ “Style: Lessons in Clarity and Grace” offers more than grammar advice; it also offers a philosophy.
It’s a call to write sentences that serve both meaning and music, to respect the reader’s breath as much as the writer’s thought.
… because in the end, the best sentences don’t make readers work to understand…
They make them want to keep reading.
Apply these tips in your next set of drafts!
About The Dynamic Marketing Communiqué’s
“Wednesdays: Write with the Pen of the Masters”
Who doesn’t find content writing to be a skill that requires a lot of practice and effort?
In fact, many people may even find copywriting very intimidating.
However, you can be a good writer as long as you have the right tools. You won’t always get things right the first time, but with enough time and practice, you’ll get the hang of it!
When you write copy for any brand or for your company, your aim is to make an impact and…
… to get people to remember.
Getting people to remember means getting consumers to buy your product or avail of your service.
… and when you get your content to deliver the results you want, THAT is great copy!
Every Wednesday, we publish content based on tips and insights from the masters of content writing, copywriting, and storytelling.
Become more familiar with ways to write great copy that helps you gain ROI from your efforts, drive profitability, and achieve your business goals.
Learn time-tested tactics that better capture the attention of your target audience, and maximize the benefits of great copywriting.
Hope you find this week’s insights interesting and helpful.
Stay tuned for next Wednesday’s “Write with the Pen of the Masters!”
Cheers,
Dyane Diasanta
Senior Content Writer
Valens Dynamic Marketing Capabilities
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