Tag Archives: 25 great sentences

May I Ask a Question?

Four questions, actually, all simple, all based on photos from the past year. Free subscriptions to this blog to anyone who answers all the questions correctly. (For legal reasons, I should probably point out that subscriptions to this blog are always free.) Okay, here’s the first:

QUESTION 1: What did the deceased former Treasury secretaries call for?

Ready for number 2, which my friend Don sent?

QUESTION 2: Do employees check whether the kids really have gas before handing over free food? If so, how?

Moving on:

QUESTION 3: Can we ever trust Dovere’s pool report again?

Last one, which I admit is somewhat personal because I wrote the book on the left:

QUESTION 4: What logical thread unites these three items?

I am looking forward to your answers. Stay safe!

Foreign Language Museum Product Version

Sometime ago–less than a year, but it feels like a lifetime–I completed a book I’m rather pleased with: 25 Great Sentences and How They Got That Way, an in-depth look at, well, great sentences and how they’re fashioned. WW Norton will publish it in August, assuming there is an August. In 2020, you never know.

Here’s the cover:

In moments of self-obsession–if I’m honest, every day–I google the title to read the prepublication reviews (happy about those) and to see where the book is being sold. I found some sites in various languages I don’t speak and google-translated the text. That’s how I discovered that 25 Great Sentences has a “foreign language museum product version.” Good to know, I think. I’m not entirely sure what that phrase means.

Important point: Far be it for me to criticize someone’s translation. How could I, when I once told a Spanish friend, in Spanish, the equivalent of “Pitifully, I have a former commitment and can’t meet you tonight”? Artificial intelligence software, on the other hand, is fair game.

Here’s another interesting sentence about my book, courtesy of the same translation program: “All the products purchased by members enjoy a ten-day hesitation period (including holidays).” Hesitation about what? To buy, read, evaluate, tear into little pieces, line the birdcage with? I’m not sure, but I love the idea of a “hesitation period.” Perhaps I’ll take one to decide what to hesitate about. And I’ll enjoy it, including holidays.