Comma Chameleon
According to some researchers, men have trouble seeing what is right in front of them.
Men are better at seeing things in the distance due to their hunter past chasing animals, while women, the historical gatherers, are better at focusing on things at close range, a British study has concluded.
While the "single" me could pontificate on this theme ad nauseam, the “writer” me is, in fact, a sympathizer with that challenge a human male faces with trying to see what is directly in front of him.
I feel solidarity with the idea that not everything is obvious to all people. Nor should it be. Homogeneous is b-o-r-i-n-g. It also spells death to a creative writer.
But imagination isn’t my problem.
My personal “I just don’t see it” cross to bear does not involve spotting animals dancing across the far-distant horizon (although, I do have a mighty fine eye with regard to the whereabouts of bees); rather, mine involves that quixotic invention, the comma.
(Source)
If I lived a past life, I’m certain that, in it, I was one of those readers of early texts busy inserting my own punctuation wherever I felt it enhanced the telling of the story.
I still do it. Worse, most times I am completely unaware of the number of commas on my own written page. They hide from me, chameleon-like, knowing if I can’t see them, I can’t remove them.
Even when I try to limit the use of my precious commas, I still over-insert them. Forget “word count” devices, someone needs to invent “comma count” software for the dramatic reader in all of us—okay, in me—who thrives on pregnant pauses.
Love those, as often as possible.
So, I ask you, if I relinquish my love grip on the comma, what will happen to me? Will I find myself making goo-goo eyes at the semi-colon (oh, please, no) or suddenly writing very short, plain sentences (anything but that) or…?
As you can see, I can’t change my punctuating ways—the risk of the unknown is far too great.
Here, in this moment, I publicly declare that I shall continue my love affair with that magic, breath-stopping, transformational little mark, the comma.
And, together, we will live happily ever after on the e-pages of romantic thrillers on Kindles, Nooks, iBooks, Kobo, Smashwords, iPads, PCs, and smart phone screens everywhere.
The End.
Men are better at seeing things in the distance due to their hunter past chasing animals, while women, the historical gatherers, are better at focusing on things at close range, a British study has concluded.
While the "single" me could pontificate on this theme ad nauseam, the “writer” me is, in fact, a sympathizer with that challenge a human male faces with trying to see what is directly in front of him.
I feel solidarity with the idea that not everything is obvious to all people. Nor should it be. Homogeneous is b-o-r-i-n-g. It also spells death to a creative writer.
But imagination isn’t my problem.
My personal “I just don’t see it” cross to bear does not involve spotting animals dancing across the far-distant horizon (although, I do have a mighty fine eye with regard to the whereabouts of bees); rather, mine involves that quixotic invention, the comma.
If I lived a past life, I’m certain that, in it, I was one of those readers of early texts busy inserting my own punctuation wherever I felt it enhanced the telling of the story.
I still do it. Worse, most times I am completely unaware of the number of commas on my own written page. They hide from me, chameleon-like, knowing if I can’t see them, I can’t remove them.
Even when I try to limit the use of my precious commas, I still over-insert them. Forget “word count” devices, someone needs to invent “comma count” software for the dramatic reader in all of us—okay, in me—who thrives on pregnant pauses.
Love those, as often as possible.
So, I ask you, if I relinquish my love grip on the comma, what will happen to me? Will I find myself making goo-goo eyes at the semi-colon (oh, please, no) or suddenly writing very short, plain sentences (anything but that) or…?
As you can see, I can’t change my punctuating ways—the risk of the unknown is far too great.
Here, in this moment, I publicly declare that I shall continue my love affair with that magic, breath-stopping, transformational little mark, the comma.
And, together, we will live happily ever after on the e-pages of romantic thrillers on Kindles, Nooks, iBooks, Kobo, Smashwords, iPads, PCs, and smart phone screens everywhere.
The End.
Posted by A Priya In Washington at 12/8/2011 12:40 PM 
Categories: Writing a Book
Tags: Chameleon Comma Punctuation Ancient Texts Word Count Drama Selfpublishing Ashley Barron dcPriya Kindle authors romantic thriller The Priyas Ava Arden Happily Ever After HEA
Categories: Writing a Book
Tags: Chameleon Comma Punctuation Ancient Texts Word Count Drama Selfpublishing Ashley Barron dcPriya Kindle authors romantic thriller The Priyas Ava Arden Happily Ever After HEA
"goo-goo eyes at the semi-colon" Lol. Very funny piece Ashley. Don't give up the comma. There are many of us out there who love it!
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Thank you for your encouragement!! I am a huge fan of the comma, not to mention a genuine addict of its drama-inducing power. Yes, it's in my life to stay, happily.
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I, too, am a huge fan of the comma! Comma-lovers, unite! (I'm a great fan of the hyphen-combo also
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Yes, the curse of the comma. For me, it is the misplaced ones, rather than the number. I put them where I would want to pause if I were reading aloud. I think this may be why people interrupt me when I'm talking and why I also find it impossible to get a word in edgeways when people take a breath in entirely the wrong place.
Keep up the commas, Ashley. They may be an endangered species.
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The comma really is a curious -- and powerful -- tool. I think you're right about them finding a place on the endangered species list!
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When your readers need time for your point to soak, give them a comma.
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Sensible and true, Carl! I must think my readers desire a whole lot of soaking time. Hmm, projecting?
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Oh this is hilarious! I, too, love me some commas. I prefer longish sentences. I have more issues with the hyphen. As in, I am constantly having the urge to hyphenate things that don't need excessive-hyphenation.
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This reply was hard for me to write, as it was difficult to figure out how to punctuate your post. A few things came to mind.
First, your love of commas might not be permanent. It might simply be a phase in your writing life -- a period.
On the other hand, it might be forever, so don't let me dash your hopes.
And if so, overuse of commas is certainly better than getting colon cancer.
If you're determined to crack down on comma use, I suppose you could simply set a quote-a.
These are just a few suggestions that came to me off the top of my head, as one writer to another.
I'll think more about it and maybe leave another reply tomorrow, when I'm less excited and therefore comma.
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I am a paralegal by day, and my first law firm was a stickler with commas, so it became a really bad habit. I also understand that just like law firms, publishing houses are different when it comes to the little buggers. I also have a really bad habit of over use.
Veronica L. Singleton
www.veronicalsingleton.wordpress.com
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I wish extra commas were my only problem! Really enjoyed the post, very amusing and oh so true!
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The semi-colon should almost always be followed by an eraser.
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I too suffer from the dreaded Comma Overuse Syndrome. It's an addiction, just because I want to make sense of the words on the page. I'm told the first step to beating your addiction is to admit you have a problem. I certainly don't have a problem, it's the picky snooty readers, not me!
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