Maybe, in the early years of Vietnam, Mr. Sanders found himself holding a gem, after weeks of banging on a Smith Corona, and attempted—but failed—to locate the correct combination of PCP-laced crank, which made that bestseller possible. Probably not. Instead, he penned bad sentence after worse and people bought the NEW YORK TIMES #1 BESTSELLING AUTHOR covers.
Having left him on shelves for decades, I forgot about the incessant adverbs ('His flaky eyelids rose slowly.'; '… she asked bluntly.'; and '...I said softly to him...') as well as his passive voice ('I had been right'; '....I'd fingered her as the author...’; and '...they had noticed me...'). Reading the late Mr. Sanders encourages using inconcise and grammatically incorrect sentences. Avoid him (and Vincent Lardo, who capitalizes on the dead author's name).
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