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Jun 3, 2023Liked by Nina Schuyler

The self-contradictory essence of this sentence also provides the breathless chill: the sense that although all the indicators are pointing in the right direction, the machine is rotten to its core. The facade of beautiful progress is going to snap you in two and break your heart completely.

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Jun 10, 2023Liked by Nina Schuyler

It was the season of grass, and the sky was motionless and the winds were scarce and the clouds drifted placid and pregnant and it could have been a season of lust and leisure, but it was not, and the parched fields testified that it was not.

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I loved Didion's sentence and the way you broke it down. That tiny clause, but it was not, was such a stark contrast with what came before, putting a sharp brake on the joy ride, and then repeating the it was not in the next sentence made it sound so ominous.

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Love this sentence — and this exercise — so much. An attempt, and an ode to my beloved dusk:

A neon pink patch of sky quickly turned pale and the day’s final rays descended behind the corner store and a hush of devotion arose from the city’s streets and it would have seemed apt to shed a tear at the loss of light, but night’s reign of deep darkness proved temporary and in one knowing breath sun returned to ravish sky with choirs of electric joy.

I see now how critical that one short clause is in Didion’s sentence. Can’t wait to receive another option for my fifth clause from my subconscious soon!

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