Category Archives: Letters & Challenges

Punctuation Contest: The Finalists!

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_Emily Gordon writes_:
And now, what you’ve all been waiting for: the top entries in our “punctuation correspondence contest”:http://emdashes.com/2010/07/so-you-love-punctuation-write.php, which surpassed even our own usually fanciful expectations. Here are the Emdashes staff picks for the top entries in the contest. We tried to keep it to our top five, but we were unsuccessful.
Shortly after this is posted, Ben Greenman, whose book What He’s Poised to Do will be personally punctuated and signed for the contest winner, will make the final choice/s. (There may be a runner-up.) In the meantime, enjoy these winning (for they are all decidedly winning) letters to marks famous and internet-famous. And feel free to continue to submit entries for your own and our amusement!
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**EMILY’S PICKS**:
1)
Dear Colon:
Did you like how I used a colon after your name? I did that on
purpose. I like you a lot. Do you like me? Please check yes or no
_ yes
_no
I need you to come to my house. Here’s why: my husband and I have a
nephew. His name is Colin. We love Colin very much but for some reason
whenever my husband writes his name, he write Colon. I’m not sure what
bothers me more: The misuse of your name or the incorrect spelling of
his sister’s child.
Between you and me, I know the difference. I also know about the whole
“body part” thing. I refuse to denigrate you by talking about that.
Just know this: every list I make, every point I make, I’m thinking of you.
Love:
Fadra
2)
Dear ~,
I am embarrassed to say that I have forgotten your name. You came into
my life one torrid night while talking to the abrupt, but helpful
customer service rep from Blue Host. I remember it clearly. I hope
this letter reaches you. Is it too forward to say how I love the way
you look after my name? Please write back. I am sending this out in a
bottle, posting it in the classified ads. We would could be so happy
together, crashing the shores of our meaning against each other,
forever. I know nothing about you, I don’t know what you do? Why do
you exist? I just want to know you.
Nicole ~
3)
Dear Ellipsis,
Quotation Marks told me the wonderful news – so happy to hear that
you’re pregnant again!
The last time we met, I could sense that you had something to share,
but you always seem more interested in batting your eyelashes
flirtatiously than talking!
It seems like, just recently, you had a child. And weren’t you
pregnant shortly before that? I would bend and break under the weight
that you carry.
But, don’t worry; it doesn’t show, dear, and you still wear that
polka-dot dress quite nicely.
How do you run the Sentence household with such grace? I never even
hear your babies cry! Could you share your secrets?
I’m writing not only to congratulate you but to ask – could I be the
father? I anxiously await your response.
Sincerely,
[Redacted]
–Laryssa
4)
Dear Apostrophe,
You are the ghost of a letter, hovering over the spot where it once
was. You are the ember of a letter, rising off of the site where it
was burned. You are also possessive, but I do not like thinking of you
that way.
You are not a sin of omission. You are a virtue, and a love of omission.
Love,
Lauren
5)
My En,
When I was a child, I couldn’t have dreamed of you.
I knew the hollowed-out twangy slap of the period hitting straight
down the line. I was learning to appreciate the smooth curve of commas
lapping against words. I could close my hand around both, then uncurl
my fingers to find sparkling against my skin the semicolon. I didn’t
see you, because I didn’t know you even existed to be seen.
When I was a child, I behaved like a child. But when I grew up, I put
away childish things. I fell in love with the em dash. I know you
don’t like to hear that, but of course it’s true. I was an adult, but
a new one. I drank wine only if it was golden or blushing, and sweet
as candy; I found myself in places that played jazz, but I recognized
the song only as “that one on The Cosby Show!”; I bought a belt and I
tucked in, but I didn’t have an iron.
That’s what we all did at that age! We owned real thoughts and things,
but we were still playing dress-up. Em dash was a part of that. Em
taught me that there was something bigger than the hyphen out there,
that the world didn’t have to stop with the period, pause only for the
semicolon. Em was sophisticated but palatable–yes, all right, the em
dash was easy.
But now, of course, mellowing into fuller adulthood, I understand you,
En, I want you. I know you. You reach out, striving always for another
part not of the world but of yourself, seeking, holding on. And that
is what I admire. You make me want to be a better me, because I see
you always trying to be a better, more complete, you.
**EMILY’S HONORABLE MENTIONS**:
LeolaAugust (semicolon)
Darcy (exclamation point)
Gertrude Strong (dingbat)
Lucy (pilcrow)
Richard Ihle (space)
Gene Weingarten (at-the-price-of)
Jerry (pound sign)
Ben Bass (curly quotes)
Allison (percent sign)
KB (manicule)
Angela (@)
Kellen (obelisk)
Laurence Hughes (period)
John S (numero)
Quinnie (ellipsis)
Alton (question mark)
eBeth (semicolon)
Chrissie (asterisk)
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**MARTIN’S PICKS**:
1.
Dear Exclamation Point,
Some people have dyslexia? They don:t know which letters go where, I have dyspunctia] I am fine with letters but totally helpless when it comes to punctuation\Sometimes I get it right by accident.
I like you*exclamation point because you are so solid-You stand up for yourself; Sometimes people with a problem are afraid to ask for help^
Help!
Claire
2.
Dear Apostrophe,
You are the ghost of a letter, hovering over the spot where it once was. You are the ember of a letter, rising off of the site where it was burned. You are also possessive, but I do not like thinking of you that way.
You are not a sin of omission. You are a virtue, and a love of omission.
Love,
Lauren
3.
Dear Ellipsis,
As a young journalist trying to find my way around in the real world, I’ve had to write stories about (almost) everything under the sun to gain experience. I’ve interviewed farmers that grew a record-breaking sized pumpkin, adamant politicians and young teenagers who insert like in between every other word in a sentence (just to name a few).
Ellipsis, you are a lifesaver when it comes to making people sound more intelligent. You are loving and nonjudgmental when you take the quote “It was like, ohmigawd, an amazing experience!” and change it to “It was … an amazing experience!”
I will never underestimate your dot-dot-dot power because your ability to turn ramblings into short and concise sentences is a force to be reckoned with.
Perhaps one day you will reveal all that you’ve hidden. I do trust that you will wait until the time is right. Oh, Ellipsis, you must be incredibly wise with all that you know.
I am eternally grateful for you, Ellipsis. Please take good care of yourself.
Yours truly,
Jenny
P.S. Please send my regards to Square Brackets as well. Both you and Square Brackets make quite the team when it comes to journalism.
4.
Dear Air Quotes,
Not a day goes by that I don’t rely on your versatility and expressiveness. Without you I would have to find new words to help convey my cynicism. My sarcasm would be blunt, constant, and cruel. You have gotten me through many a business meeting while allowing me to keep a straight, respectable face, since I can make you under the table. I can use you on phone calls with abandon. You are my secret, constant, forever love.
Yours always,
L
5.
Ode to Nº
Quite plainly it just reads No.
The “o” is elevated so.
More popular some years ago,
An anachronistic symbol; whoa.
It precedes a number, though
Most use the sign of tic-tac-toe;
Sharp, as most musicians know;
Pounds, when après weight. Oh no!
A line of elegant script can flow
And writ sophisticatedly so
Before the blank to let one know
How many to the soirée go.
In Word to make the symbol show
One need not be a computer pro.
Hold down ALT, 2,1,1,6. Let go
And there you have a Numero.
JohnS
**MARTIN’S HONORABLE MENTIONS**:
Lara (Air Quotes)
Zach Fowle (Apostrophe)
KB (Manicule)
Amy (Exclamation Point)
Millicent (Apostrophe)
Kellen (Obelisk)
Kristen (Copyright symbol)
M-H (Hyphen)
Tina (Ampersand)
Jessmaya (Grawlix)
James (Caret)
Bruce Frankel (Virgule)
Lacey (Semi-Colon)
punctod.png
**JONATHAN’S PICKS**:
1.
Ode to Nº
Quite plainly it just reads No.
The “o” is elevated so.
More popular some years ago,
An anachronistic symbol; whoa.
It precedes a number, though
Most use the sign of tic-tac-toe;
Sharp, as most musicians know;
Pounds, when après weight. Oh no!
A line of elegant script can flow
And writ sophisticatedly so
Before the blank to let one know
How many to the soirée go.
In Word to make the symbol show
One need not be a computer pro.
Hold down ALT, 2,1,1,6. Let go
And there you have a Numero.
JohnS
2.
Dear Ampersand,
I guess they don’t need you in Spanish, do they?
Tina
3.Dear Virgule,
You are the slant line slicing, cutting, splicing, day/nighting us, ghost-busting foolishness, warning against parking at the edge of some precipice as blithe lovers sometimes do.
This is it, you say, hatcheting the complacent skull in two: “Decide! Decide! On which side of this, of me, are you?”
Sometime slung as hash or solidus, Søren Kierkegaard branded you. He took you even in the split-o of his name. Most of all, he knew how to leverage you, as in Either/Or, slashing the heart where the questions are.
You divide all our conversation into essential antinomies: Love/Hate. Life/Death. Being/Nothingness. Meanwhile you play dump truck and typographical terrorist, teetering my “Yes,” threatening to unleash a final “No.”
You/ me?
I guess I’m still attached,
Bruce
4.
Dear Quotation Mark.
Do you ever have any ideas of your own?
Disappointed,
Annie
5.
Dear
comma, the
maternity of
clause, and
conveying a
panache to
pause in
thrall, in
you the
wherewithal to
surcease of
lovers, a
hesitation and
hover, and
refrain in
singing, a
mark the
pendant of
clinging to,
arbiter to
instanter and
other, of
framing in
between the
lodgings, a
door, a
proclaiming to
adore, the
companion and,
inside in,
conductor of
love of
song, a
direction, in
you, to
descend and
belong, the
dismounting of apostrophe, to
commence a new, and
never in accommodating the.
(My letter is a sestina that employs the six most common English words.)
Alex
**JONATHAN’S HONORABLE MENTIONS**:
Jenny (ellipsis)
Lara (air quotes)
James (caret)
Eleaanor (‘)
Laurence H (period)
RL ($)
Mary (hyphen)
Tynic (period)
Nora O (pregnant comma)
punctoe.png
**POLLUX’S PICKS**:
1.
Dear Manicule,
It’s Quick Tip. Behind you.
Hallo! Over here!
HEY, POINTY-HAND. WRONG WAY.
Never mind. Fine.
So what’s so all-important over there?
KB
2.
Dear Tilde,
I must admit that I have come to loathe seeing you. It’s not
frequently but yet enough to make my fingers stray far away from your
high and mighty position on the top-left part of my keyboard. You’re
at your worst on blogs, Facebook and Twitter. Why must people insist
to use you surrounding their thoughts? Like the phrase “going to the
beach” is somehow more magical with you surrounding it. Hhmm, maybe it
could be…
~ going to the beach ~
No, I stand my ground. Although I get distracted by your wavy
coolness, I utterly detest these shenanigans you participate in. Make
me proud and stand up for yourself next time.
Wishing you well,
SK
SKBJuly 23, 2010
3.
Dear interrobang,
I can only imagine the suffering in your heart as a cruel society
lives on largely in ignorance of your very existence.
And I can only imagine this suffering has grown tenfold since the rise
of netslang and tweet-sized righteous indignation has made your jaunty
combination of surprise and interrogation so painfully relevant.
“WTF?!” they cry, unaware that one piece of long-since discarded
punctuation could easily stand in place of the cumbersome two.
And “WTF‽” I cry too, every time someone sees me rocking my classy
interrobang t-shirt and asks what that symbol means.
Just know that I care.
Just know that I care.
WTF indeed, cruel world. WTF indeed.
Joe Boughner
4.
Dear Virgule,
You are the slant line slicing, cutting, splicing, day/nighting us,
ghost-busting foolishness, warning against parking at the edge of some
precipice as blithe lovers sometimes do.
This is it, you say, hatcheting the complacent skull in two: “Decide!
Decide! On which side of this, of me, are you?”
Sometime slung as hash or solidus, Søren Kierkegaard branded you. He
took you even in the split-o of his name. Most of all, he knew how to
leverage you, as in Either/Or, slashing the heart where the questions
are.
You divide all our conversation into essential antinomies: Love/Hate.
Life/Death. Being/Nothingness. Meanwhile you play dump truck and
typographical terrorist, teetering my “Yes,” threatening to unleash a
final “No.”
You/ me?
I guess I’m still attached,
Bruce
5.
Dear Quotation Mark.
Do you ever have any ideas of your own?
Disappointed,
Annie
**POLLUX’S HONORABLE MENTIONS**:
Antonia (equals sign)
Kristen (copyright symbol)
Frankie Drayus (Em Dash)
Angela T (< and >)

This Is the Last Day of Our (Fun Contest’s) Acquaintance

If you’re old enough to understand that reference, you’re old enough to write a letter to your favorite punctuation mark! If you’re not old enough, that’s OK; we would love to have, and if possible, exploit, your unique Gen-Y take on the matter. If you’re too old to have listened to a Sinéad O’Connor song sixty-five times in a row, we especially welcome your submissions, because you remember when paper was paper and music was music and people didn’t sprinkle around exclamation points so promiscuously. To all of you, we issue this grave but encouraging reminder: This is the last day to enter to win a signed, specially decorated copy of Ben Greenman’s book What He’s Poised to Do, and to win our hearts and the deep and eternal regard of your fellow man. We can’t wait to see what you do, but hurry. (No exclamation point, as a gesture of respect to our elders–for there are still, at the time of this writing, people older than ourselves.) –Emily Gordon
Very much related: National Punctuation Day.

Resolved Answer: “I am obsessed with punctuation, why is this?”

Emily Gordon writes:
At Yahoo! Answers, the world is always ready with solutions, judgments, and miscellaneous gibberish. We would like to reassure “Lost.,” the writer of this lonely cry for help, that she is not alone, and should not despair! “What is causing this?” she writes. What’s causing this is a love for truth and beauty that will not be shattered by underminers, naysayers, and nattering nabobs of instant messaging, and nothing less. If only we could speak directly to her, we would invite her to enter our contest to write the best letter to a punctuation mark, which has 58 entries so far and counting.
Alas, she’s an anonymous anime illustration. In her honor, then, let’s write more letters to more punctuation marks, who are loved. Or sometimes (see below) threatened with legal action. You have till August 15 to enter, and, maybe, win Ben Greenman’s new book!

So You Love Punctuation? Write a Letter to Your Favorite Mark, and You Might Win a Copy of Ben Greenman’s Brand-New Book!

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Update: We’ve announced the finalists, and the winner!
We loved every single letter to every single mark. Thank you!
Ben Greenman‘s new book, What He’s Poised to Do, was recently published by Harper Perennial, and critics are already hailing its mix of emotional sophistication and formal innovation. Just the tip of the iceberg: Steve Almond, writing in the Los Angeles Times, calls the fourteen stories in the collection “astonishing,” and Pauls Toutonghi at Bookslut calls them “beautiful”–even better, “a book so beautiful, you’ll feel mysteriously compelled to mail it to a stranger.
The book, in large part, deals with letters: how they are (or aren’t) effective conveyances for emotional intimacy and truth. Along with the book, Mr. Greenman has launched a site called Letters With Character, which invites readers to write letters to their favorite fictional characters–most recently, Alyosha Karamazov, Madame Psychosis from Infinite Jest, and Ernest Hemingway’s Yogi Johnson from The Torrents of Spring.
Here at Emdashes, we love letters (especially those sent through the postal mail), but there’s something we love even more: punctuation. Indeed, when we discovered that the upside-down question mark–as in ¿Qué?–had no official name, we challenged you, our readers, to rename it, and now the frequent (you wouldn’t believe how frequent) googlers who seek this information know the answer: it is the interroverti, all thanks to you.
In the same spirit, we’re combining two of our top-ten passions in life and challenging you to write a letter to your favorite punctuation mark, or perhaps one you find elusive, insufficiently loved, or sound but overexposed. Tell it anything you want: your fears, your frustrations, your innermost desires. Then put it in the comments section below so we can read it, too. Deadline: August 16. (We know all too well that it can take a bit of time to write a good letter–or even a telegraphic telegram.)
Here is a partial list of possible correspondents, with the current tally of blushing recipients marked in bold, and also ranked here in descending order of popularity: the acute accent, the air quote, the ampersand (3), the apostrophe (7), the asterisk (2), the at-the-price-of, the at sign (3), the backslash, the bracket, the bullet, the caret, the colon (3), the comma, the curly quote, the dagger, the dash ditto mark, the diaeresis, the dollar sign, the double hyphen (which is perhaps not what you thought it was), the ellipsis (10), the em dash (2)–toward which some jurors are slightly biased–or the en dash, the newly coined exclaquestion mark, the exclamation point (7), the full stop (2), the grawlix (2), the hyphen, the interpunct, the interrobang (2), the inverted exclamation point, the interroverti (formerly the inverted question mark), the little star, the macron, the manicule (2), the number sign, the parenthesis (((3))), the percent sign, the period (3), the pilcrow, the pound sign, the question mark (3), the quotation mark (or a pair of them), the controversial semicolon (7), the smart quote, the slash, the tilde (2), the underline, the Oxford comma, or any other mark close to your heart but not listed here. We will select the best letter and award the writer a signed copy of Mr. Greenman’s book, which may in fact contain the beloved mark in question. He may even add an extra one just for you.
Remember: Post your letter in the comments below by August 16, and you’ll be entered to win a signed copy of this exceptionally satisfying book of stories by one of our favorite writers. The best of the entry letters will all be collected in a post of their own, with sparkles, blue ribbons, and plenty of punctuation. If you can’t wait till mid-August to find out if you’ve won, and/or have friends who love letters and will love this book, of course, you can also order a copy.
Posting tip: You can use basic HTML tags to make line spaces; try the paragraph and break tags, as needed. If you don’t know how or would like our help, we are obsessive editor types and are happy to right the spacing for you.
Art note: The painting on the book cover is by Alyssa Monks, whose portraits of women and men and bodies and children and water and funny faces are scorchingly beautiful.
Factual note: We realize that some of these marks are really less punctuation than they are typographical elements. But since they’re getting letters, or we think they should, we’re including them.
Related posts and links:
Short Imagined Monologues: I Am the Period at the End of This Paragraph. [Ben Greenman, McSweeney’s]
Exciting Emdashes Contest! ¿What Should We Call the Upside-Down Question Mark?
Our in-depth coverage of punctuation–five years and counting!
More Emdashes contests, giveaways, and assorted bunk
Is That an Emoticon in 1862? [NYT/City Room]

Winging It: What Species is Tilley’s Butterfly?

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_Pollux writes_:
What species is Eustace Tilley’s butterfly?
Back in “May 2009”:http://emdashes.com/2009/05/sempe-fi-on-covers-forgotten-l.php I posited the suggestion that Tilley’s nameless butterfly, which to me symbolizes creative inspiration, is a
“Clouded Sulphur”:http://www.mariposasmexicanas.com/colias_philodice_eriphyle.htm, whose scientific name is _Colias philodice_. The Clouded Sulphur’s range includes New York. Is it possible Rea Irvin had a specific butterfly in mind?
Perhaps not. Tilley’s Butterfly, of course, is a symbol rather than a literal depiction of a specific butterfly species, but it’s fun to play the amateur lepidopterist.
What do you think?
At Emdashes we like to speculate and theorize about things like this. It gives us wings. If any professional lepidopterists are reading this, we’d also love for you to share your thoughts.

Congratulations to the Hanging Noodles Giveaway Winner!

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(illustration by Julia Suits)
_Pollux writes_:
I’m pleased to announce that the winner of our “giveaway”:http://emdashes.com/2009/09/book-giveaway-jag-bhallas-im-n.php for I’m _Not Hanging Noodles On Your Ears_ by Jag Bhalla is **Michael May** of Dubuque, Iowa!
That city holds a special place in the hearts of _New Yorker_ devotees, and what’s even better is that Michael May writes all about the mystique of Dubuque on his blog “The Dubuquer.”:http://dubuquer.wordpress.com/
Congrats, Michael!
Michael wrote:
My favorite idiom is “bleed my lizard.”
In West Texas, if I say I need to “bleed my lizard,” I mean I need to urinate.

Thanks to the many people who entered, and better luck next time to all!

Book Giveaway Reminder: Jag Bhalla’s “I’m Not Hanging Noodles On Your Ears”

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_Martin Schneider writes_:
If you happened to miss last week’s “announcement”:http://emdashes.com/2009/09/book-giveaway-jag-bhallas-im-n.php of our giveaway of Jag Bhalla’s new book, you have extra time -we have extended the contest time to _September 30_!
Send us an “e-mail”:mailto:martin@emdashes.com, subject line “My favorite idiom,” and include your name and full mailing address. We won’t accept anything after 8:00 pm EST on Friday, September 30, so don’t _do the leek_ (“hang around waiting”)… That’s a French idiom.
Good luck!

Book Giveaway: Jag Bhalla’s “I’m Not Hanging Noodles On Your Ears”

_Martin Schneider writes_:
tea_navel_Julia Suits.jpg
Emdashes is delighted to be giving away a copy of _I’m Not Hanging Noodles On Your Ears_, a book on idioms by “Jag Bhalla”:http://www.hangingnoodles.com/, illustrated by _New Yorker_ cartoonist Julia Suits (who drew the funny picture above).
We recently “reviewed”:http://emdashes.com/2009/08/hanging-noodles.php Bhalla’s delightful book, which amuses and educates. The book is a great addition to lovers of both language and cartoons, and we guarantee that you’ll love _Hanging Noodles_. We know that you crave this book, or as the Chinese say, have _spittle that’s three feet long_ for this book.
Here are the rules: There are two ways you can enter. One is to drop us an “e-mail”:mailto:martin@emdashes.com, with the subject line “**My favorite idiom**”; include your favorite idiom, your full name, and your mailing address in the body of the e-mail.
The other way is to retweet our message about this contest on Twitter; our username is @emdashes, if you’re not already following us.
Please mention your favorite idiom in the tweet, too.
We’ll accept all entries until 8:00 p.m., Eastern Standard Time, on Friday, **September 30**, and then the Random Number Generator will deliver its negative verdict to every entrant save one.
Good luck to all of you! As the Russians say, _each vegetable has its own time_ (“every dog has its day”).

Congratulations to the Laura Jacobs Giveaway Winner!

Martin Schneider writes:
I’m pleased to announce that the winner of our giveaway for The Bird Catcher by Laura Jacobs is Patricia Fosen of Brooklyn, New York. Her favorite bird is the Black-chinned Hummingbird, who (she is told) “only hums Tchaikovsky.” That one is not on my life list!!
Thanks to the many people who entered, and better luck next time to all but Patricia (and sure, luck to her too). There will be other opportunities!
We asked for entrants to name their favorite bird, and you did not disappoint! The statements of avian fondness were delightful. Admired birds ranged from the familiar—Black-capped Chickadee (“highly entertaining at the bird feeder”), American Robin—to the fantastical—the Russet Crowned Motmot, Superb Starling, Bare-Faced Go-Away Bird).
Birds that received multiple mentions include the wren, the pelican, and the cardinal—a New Yorker who mentioned the cardinal said that she’s never actually seen one! (You must come out here to the burbs—they’re all over the place!) One reader on the west coast cited the wood thrush, saying that he gets to hear its song only when he watches golf tournaments on the east coast.
Finally, one wag mentioned “fried chicken”; another, the “Red-naped Border Tyrant (Customes officialus).” Keep it up—we at Emdashes admire whimsy!
birdcatcher.jpg

Book Giveaway: Laura Jacobs’s “The Bird Catcher”

birdcatcher.jpg
Martin Schneider writes:
Emdashes is delighted to be giving away a copy of The Bird Catcher, the brand-new novel by Vanity Fair contributing editor Laura Jacobs, who’s also the author of the wonderful book Women About Town.
A true New York story, The Bird Catcher has received glowing notices in, among other publications, Booklist and Bookforum. That it’s about real birds as well as swooping and cawing city life and the nests and claws of love can only add to its appeal around these parts; as longtime readers know, both Emily and I have a lively interest in our enviably multicolored and befeathered counterparts. We salute them as vigorously as all of us Emdashers salute quality contemporary fiction.
In addition to the giveaway, we’re very pleased to present a lovely mini-essay from Jacobs herself on the subject of em dashes, below. My paying work is as a copy editor for academic publishers, so I’m fascinated by the interaction between authors and editors. I see one side of that dynamic, but always in a nonfiction context. I could never imagine intervening in a passionate, careful, heartfelt novel as boldly as I redline a study of Eastern European governance. So I understandably find Jacobs’s experiences with punctuation highly interesting. Let’s turn over the page before explaining how to enter our giveaway!

Em Dashes in The Bird Catcher
By Laura Jacobs

The editing phase of a novel is quite different than the act of writing a novel, where you are daily pushing your plot forward even as you allow digressions to pull you into corners and shadows and glades. When you are writing, all energy is focused on driving to the finish line, even if the narrative is embedded with flashbacks (a good flashback will eventually rebound into the present). Em dashes, then, those linear bits of combustion, these cognitive bridges, work like spark plugs, synapses, in the story. The final manuscript of my second novel, The Bird Catcher (published in June by St. Martin’s Press), was loaded with em dashes.

But when it was time to go though and clean it up before showing it to prospective buyers, I found myself taking the em dashes out, rather ruthlessly. Much of the novel is thought—the memories and mental wanderings of my protagonist—and the em dashes suddenly looked too “writery” on the page. I told myself, people don’t think in em dashes. And yet I knew from experience that people do think in em dashes, or at least critics do. As a dance critic I rely greatly on the kinetic leap of the em dash—and the spotlight of white space it lands in. But in a novel, I asked myself, were the dashes too much of “telling” when I should be “showing”? In the spirit of postmodernism, even though The Bird Catcher is not postmodern, I removed the em dashes.

Imagine my surprise then, when months later I received the copy-edited manuscript from my publisher. Em dashes had been put back in almost every place I’d removed them, and they’d been introduced into places where commas had been before. I was, how shall I put it, freaked out. What should I do? Remove them a second time? Did the copy editor know something I didn’t know? I felt immobilized, unsure of how to proceed. I decided to consult the masters.

I pulled a recent translation of Leo Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina off the shelf, and also Edith Wharton’s The Age of Innocence. I saw that both books are full of em dashes. Tolstoy’s first em dash appears on the novel’s first page in the third paragraph, and many more follow in this chapter of marital agitation, in which Oblonsky is remembering the recent emotional moment when his wife confronted him with his adultery. Wharton’s first em dash comes on the third page of her novel, in a line of text from the opera Faust: “He loves me—he loves me not—he loves me!—” I’m not sure how the line is punctuated in Gounod’s libretto, but this is certainly how one would hear it, each exclamation floating in the air, a possibility. In fact, Wharton especially liked to end a line of conversation with an em dash, so attuned was she to the unspoken, the unspeakable, and the speechless. Well, if em dashes were good enough for these two writers, they were certainly good enough for me. I let them stand.

Here are the rules: There are two ways you can enter. One is to drop us an e-mail, with the subject line “My favorite bird”; include your favorite bird, your full name, and your mailing address in the body of the e-mail. The other way is to retweet our message about this contest on Twitter; our username is @emdashes, if you’re not already following us. Please mention your favorite bird in the tweet (ha), too. We’ll accept all entries until 8:00 p.m., Eastern Standard Time, on Friday, July 24, and then the Random Number Generator will deliver its negative verdict to every entrant save one. Good luck to all of you!