Giving Readers a Chance to Pause

Ah, yes—punctuation: The writing tool that grammar Nazis love to wield and many writers want to wish away.

Trends

English punctuation rules have largely remained the same over recent centuries, although punctuation does go through significant trends. For instance, during the 1600s most English writers used semicolons every time they wanted the reader to pause just a bit, which seemed to occur every two sentences. Meanwhile, in the 21^st Century, we might only see semicolons in obituaries.

Over the last fifty years, one noticeable punctuation trend involves the beloved EM dash (capitalization is mine here). This popular pause appears everywhere regardless of subject matter or genre, fiction or nonfiction. The em dash provides an attractive, functional way to force the reader to pause a second between what they just read and what’s coming up. I know, a comma is supposed to do that, but commas are so common that readers tend to ignore them the way drivers ignore mile marker signs. So what? readers think. Another comma—I’ll keep going.

I started writing short stories in fifth grade (just after the last ice age). Back then I didn’t know em dashes existed. But I did learn how to insert an ellipsis when I wanted a reader to pause more than they would for a comma. I fell in love with this clever tool that just took three taps on the period key. In time, however, a teacher informed me that ellipsis overuse could brand the author as lazy. I quickly cut their use to a minimum.

Writers use em dashes, commas, semicolons, and ellipses to ask the reader to pause, so let’s examine each.

Commas. This is the most versatile mark. It wears many hats, but its two main functions involve setting off nonessential expressions and separating elements. The comma doesn’t draw undue attention to itself. As long as the comma doesn’t usurp a role assigned to the semicolon, parentheses, or period, it’s generally the safe choice.

And yet, there is a problem. As I review the writing of new authors, I often cringe at the glut of commas littering their sentences, especially after the word “and.” I don’t disparage the Oxford comma rule, but not every “and” is part of a series. Take this sentence: Marlene’s library bag contained three used Jim Butcher novels and two weathered pads of lined paper. This “and” does not rate a comma because it doesn’t separate two independent clauses, nor is it in a series.

Semicolons. A semicolon is the almost stop that’s created by placing a period atop a comma. It’s long been subject to ridicule by writers and editors alike. The main source of criticism likely stems from the name itself. A semicolon is not half of a colon; instead, it’s half of a period. It should have been named a semiperiod because it’s designed to join two independent clauses that are perfectly capable of standing alone, but because of their relationship they’ve been separated by a semicolon instead.

Kurt Vonnegut said the only reason to use a semicolon is “to show you’ve been to college.” I beg to differ. A semicolon has its uses. It can replace coordinating conjunctions (like and or but) and conjunctive adverbs (like however or therefore). A rightly placed semicolon can even make short prose more poetic, providing a greater degree of intimacy and clarity. To wit: Martha loves gardening; James does not. The two independent clauses are entwined in a way that reveals their relationship. If they were broken into two sentences, the reader might wonder: James does not… what?

Em Dashes. Typewriters make em dashes with two hyphens (–) which word processors now turn into a single long dash (—). These elegant em dashes are interrupters, signals of sudden breaks in the flow of narrative or dialogue, like this: “He didn’t even know she was in trouble. If a neighbor hadn’t come to find him—” Or: “I just thought—” Yeah, but I thought wrong. These breaks indicate the narrator didn’t complete their sentence or thought.

Em dashes not only pause readers, but they can provide emphasis: Soft music—Gary was singing—floated through the window. Another way to emphasize might be: Tears of anger—fear—sprang to her eyes. Here, the tears are both anger and fear, but the fear is stronger so it’s set off by dashes. Note: No spaces intrude between the words or quote marks and the em dash.

Ellipses. It’s hard not to love an ellipsis. They’re so mysterious—it’s the punctuation mark sitting at a bar with a whiskey sour and a secret everyone wants to know. An ellipsis is a slippery little devil that often means: “Hey reader, you can try to guess where this is going, but I’m not going to tell you…” Ellipses generally mean material has been left out, deliberately.

In addition, ellipses can express hesitation, changes of mood, suspense, or thoughts trailing off. Writers also use ellipses to indicate a pause or wavering in an otherwise straightforward sentence. Like: “I don’t know… I’m not sure.”

The correct way to type an ellipsis is a point of controversy. Some say each period should have a single space on either side, some don’t. Some still insist that if it’s at the end of a sentence, there needs to be a fourth period; some say that’s old school. Some say ellipses should be preceded and followed by a single space; others say no. So you can check your high school grammar book, the latest Chicago Manual of Style, or just use them the way your favorite best-selling author does.

Everyone needs a break now and then, even readers, and these “pause” tools give it to them. So, what’s not to love?