Can you tell me what are "run-on sentences" exactly and why some people claim this blog post is unreadable? [closed]

Solution 1:

The comma is used only to separate clauses, parts of sentences which cannot stand alone.

That sentence is a good use of a comma, this sentence is a bad use.

The reason the second sentence is bad is because both halves are complete sentences: it's a run-on sentence. Generally a run-on sentence can always be fixed by replacing the comma with a full-stop, but it's often better to use a conjunction [like but here]. It's also possible to link ideas by varied punctuation, as in the first sentence of this paragraph where I use a colon.

As a general rule (to which there are almost certainly exceptions), if there is a main verb on both sides of a comma, it should not be a comma.

Your paragraph might be improved like the following example, among lots of other possibilities.

Let us say you have learned some basics and principles about computer programming and you want to make a program to solve a specific problem. In order to make that program you have to solve the problem and then start writing the code, so what is making you think "solving the problem" or "writing the code"? Programming itself does not teach you how to think: it forces you to solve the problem (which is going to teach you how to think) before doing anything else due to the reasons explained above. If not I challenge you to do it otherwise.

Solution 2:

Both periods (full stops) and commas are used to break a written utterance into chunks for easier syntactic and semantic processing.

A comma indicates that the chunks it separates are syntactically related, while a period indicates that the chunks are syntactically distinct.

Consequently, when you employ 'comma splices', you set your reader to looking for syntactic relationships which are not present. This is fatiguing and in the end discouraging: after one or two such false clues, the reader decides your text is not worth the trouble it takes to read it and gives up. Whether or not the text is literally unreadable, it goes unread.

You, as the writer, have sole control of the text. It is up to you to make the text as intelligible as your subject permits. When you fail to do so—when by slovenly construction, imprecise diction or misleading punctuation you make the reader do your job for you, tease out what the devil it is you’re trying to say—the reader perceives this, quite rightly, as a deliberate discourtesy. “You don't feel your text is worth your taking the trouble to make reading it easy? Then I don't think your text is worth my taking the trouble to read it. Good-bye!”