When I’m line editing a manuscript, one of the things I pay attention to is the placement of paragraph breaks—breaking up overly long paragraphs, combining short ones that don’t really stand on their own, and making sure paragraphs start and end in places that will help the reader follow the threads of the author’s argument. I often find myself moving a paragraph break by just one sentence because what the author has written at the end of one paragraph would be more effective as the opening sentence of the next one. This typically happens when the author is using the end of a paragraph to introduce the next paragraph’s new topic or analytical lens, so my strong recommendation is to avoid changing topics at the end of a paragraph.
Eric Hayot writes in The Elements of Academic Style: Writing for the Humanities (2014, 108):
The most obvious transitions happen between paragraphs, partly because the paragraph is in itself the signal of a transition (from one idea to the next). The first question that comes up is, then, whether you should transition at the end of a paragraph or at the beginning of one. My answer: almost always at the beginning.
That’s because I conceive the job of the end of a paragraph to be to close out and reframe the action of the paragraph itself. Replacing that closure with transitions that point us forward, though it looks and feels natural to many writers, often produces paragraphs that never quite take responsibility for their own work. . . . It gives the illusion of linking and subordination when in fact what you often have is a series of purely horizontal relationships that don’t communicate what they amount to.
On a more basic level, from the reader’s perspective, a sentence on a different topic at the end of a paragraph will probably just seem like a non sequitur at first. They might backtrack and make the connection across the paragraph break after they’ve read a few more sentences, but you don’t want to give your readers those “oh, now I get it” moments if you can help it.
Let’s take an example from the Wikipedia page for Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. The passage on the left changes topics at the ends of paragraphs, and the passage on the right (the original text) changes topics at the beginnings of paragraphs.
| New topic at the end | New topic at the beginning |
| Between April and December 1775, Mozart developed an enthusiasm for violin concertos, producing a series of five (the only ones he ever wrote), which steadily increased in their musical sophistication. The last three—K. 216, K. 218, K. 219—are now staples of the repertoire. In 1776, he turned his efforts to piano concertos, culminating in the E♭ concerto K. 271 of early 1777, considered by critics to be a breakthrough work. Despite these artistic successes, Mozart grew increasingly discontented with Salzburg and redoubled his efforts to find a position elsewhere. One reason was his low salary, 150 florins a year; Mozart longed to compose operas, and Salzburg provided only rare occasions for these. The situation worsened in 1775 when the court theatre was closed, especially since the other theatre in Salzburg was primarily reserved for visiting troupes. Two long expeditions in search of work interrupted this long Salzburg stay. Mozart and his father visited Vienna from 14 July to 26 September 1773, and Munich from 6 December 1774 to March 1775. Neither visit was successful, though the Munich journey resulted in a popular success with the premiere of Mozart’s opera La finta giardiniera. | Between April and December 1775, Mozart developed an enthusiasm for violin concertos, producing a series of five (the only ones he ever wrote), which steadily increased in their musical sophistication. The last three—K. 216, K. 218, K. 219—are now staples of the repertoire. In 1776, he turned his efforts to piano concertos, culminating in the E♭ concerto K. 271 of early 1777, considered by critics to be a breakthrough work. Despite these artistic successes, Mozart grew increasingly discontented with Salzburg and redoubled his efforts to find a position elsewhere. One reason was his low salary, 150 florins a year; Mozart longed to compose operas, and Salzburg provided only rare occasions for these. The situation worsened in 1775 when the court theatre was closed, especially since the other theatre in Salzburg was primarily reserved for visiting troupes. Two long expeditions in search of work interrupted this long Salzburg stay. Mozart and his father visited Vienna from 14 July to 26 September 1773, and Munich from 6 December 1774 to March 1775. Neither visit was successful, though the Munich journey resulted in a popular success with the premiere of Mozart’s opera La finta giardiniera. |
Do you see how the version on the left breaks the connection between the transition sentences and what follows? Going from the first paragraph to the second, a reader might think, “‘One reason was his low salary…’ Wait, one reason for what? ‘Salzburg provided…’ Oh, one of his reasons for wanting to leave Salzburg,” whereas they don’t have to do that backtracking with the version on the right. From the second paragraph to the third, we need “Two long expeditions” at the beginning of the paragraph to make it immediately clear that the trips to Vienna and Munich are the expeditions in question.
Going back to Hayot’s point about closure, I’ve found that the effect of a misplaced transition is even more disorienting at the end of a section (or even a whole chapter!). If you want to use the paragraph or two before the new section heading to begin to weave Topic B into the end of your discussion of Topic A, that can be effective, but what doesn’t work is to round out Topic A and then throw in a sentence about Topic B right at the end of the section—instead of giving a helpful preview of your next topic, it creates a non sequitur that the reader will have to backtrack to resolve.
Erin K. Maher, Ph.D. 