Can you write a 500-word sentence? 500 exactly.
Shelly Lowenkopf mentioned a fellow named Barnaby Conrad and his 500 word sentence. I couldn’t resist the effort.
Janie Hopkins, her curves and wayward hair, waited by the Hamilton train tracks just within sight of the high school where her boyfriend, or the boy she hoped would be her boyfriend, would see her through the window of the science class; he stared out that cracked, dim window everyday to dream about life elsewhere, places he had yet to read about, places perhaps glimpsed on television but which he knew no one else in town had ever imagined, and Janie Lee hoped that he would see her waiting and place her in that dream even if he put her there by accident, simply because she was there and certainly no other girl in town bothered to put herself in his line of view because why would they when he had no prospects of any kind considering his family’s past and no father would allow his daughter to walk through town in front of God and everybody with a Pilketon boy, but Janie was lucky if being fatherless was ever lucky because no one cared what an orphan did because they expected such a girl to lose her way at the first available opportunity, which was just about every day, especially for her and her curves and wayward hair; didn’t everyone know that the more curves in a girl’s body the more chances to go wrong as if curves meant derailment and this was why a train went in a straight line and everything good was flat and everything suspicious bent one way or another, and this was why Janie’s sister would never wait for Merit Pilketon to see her do anything like stand by the train tracks, looking for all the world as if the train would stop just for her and her hand on her hip, but Janie knew that a boy wasn’t his father no matter what folks said about apples falling from trees; in fact, she liked fallen apples best with their bruises and the feeling they weren’t wanted by something so much larger than themselves and in the case of Merit Pilketon, Janie knew he was the best apple of all, perfect to hold as if she were a teacher and fate were giving her an apple to put on her desk, though she wasn’t really sure she could teach fate anything other than to leave her alone, which was an important lesson for fate to know, and here she scuffed the dirt next to the track as if fate itself were the earth under her feet and that’s how it had power over all of them, but she wasn’t about to concede anything to something she could walk on even if the world did grow from it, everything from weeds to apple trees and her very own self; the dirt couldn’t possibly care what boy she wanted or what she wanted from him and what she wanted from this boy was escape, and who better to offer escape than someone who had already fallen.
Please point out my comma errors. (Commas beat me in my sleep.) Hell. Point out all the errors. It is 500 words long! And I wrote it while my students took an iBT TOEFL reading practice test and decided not to edit.
I challenge you to 500 words. See what happens.