Dear Friends,
I’m sharing a post — also cross-posted on
.Best,
Sam
GUIDE TO PUNCTUATION
Period — You yourself. Your ego. The sound of your voice. Your basic sense of rhythm.
Comma — Your faithful companion. Wife or husband. There always, invaluable, reliable, your rock. The occasional spat (surprisingly bitter) — what, for instance, is exactly the right way to write out a list, should it end with a space, with words just randomly clumped together, the Oxford comma, what??
Dash — A mistress or lover. Exciting, unpredictable. A whole new way of constructing sentences. Subordinate clauses that can last for pages. A new way of looking at the world, the rules unfamiliar. A vertigo about it — at some point longing for the familiarity of commas.
Ellipses — Your quirky friend. The kind of person that whispers secrets in your ear or just lets them hang in the air….that paws at their napkin….that hints without ever quite saying it at some buried trauma….
Exclamation mark — Your acquaintances and peppy bosses. The kinds of people who talk too loud at neighboring tables, who tell you to smile (!!!) on the street, who run the dance floors of cruise ships.
Semi-Colon — Your father’s voice. Subtle, worldly, authoritative. The sensibility of acquired tastes; of the mysteries of the adult world; of hearing the other side of all questions.
Colon — Your neighbors, certain water-cooler regulars at your office. The kinds of people who take a deep breath before they tell you a story, who rattle on and on: no end in sight.
Apostrophe — The moment of making friends, of relaxing: “let’s drop the formalities, ok?”
Quotation mark — Your show furniture. Solely for guests.
Question mark — The spice of life. Travel, education, certain wander-y late nights. The only real alternative to the period. The only way to get outside yourself?
Parentheses — Daily life. All the things that would seem to be too trivial to mention but are strangely irresistible to say. The accumulation of them (come to think of it) not so different from your life in the major keys. The quiet voice when you speak to yourself. (Your mother’s susurrus.)
Oooh, I love this! Thank you for sharing! 😃
Very strange - just yesterday I used the word "susurrus" for perhaps the first time, referring quite literally to the sound of New Mexican aspens....
your mother (who loves you, and this piece, and punctuation)