You Can't Have a Pregnant Pause If There's a Period Involved
The importance of choosing the right punctuation for the job
Something many writers struggle with is how to properly punctuate pauses in writing. And no wonder. There appears to be no shortage of methods, depending on the type of break you’re looking for. That’s the beauty of punctuation: you’ll often find more than one tool for the job at hand.
The punctuation mentioned in the following breakdown has a multitude of uses. For this post, however, I’ll be focusing on their individual roles in punctuating a pause.
Period/full stop:
Periods are used most often to end things. A period says I’m so done here. And it doesn’t always signal a mic drop, but the use of it can often mean you’re not going to hear anything more on a topic. That kind of eliminates the whole idea of a pause, so save your periods for when you really mean it. One of the only uses for a period when showing a pause is the (not-quite-trendy-anymore) emphatic dialogue styling: “Do. Not. Speak.”
Ellipsis:
There are those who assume the use of an ellipsis is the only way to show a pause. They certainly can do the job, but depending on what type of pause you’re going for, an ellipsis may give a different “sound” to that pause. An ellipsis can often signify a trailing off of speech (or thought), either because the speaker doesn’t want to/can’t say what’s next, or because they’re encouraging a response.
“I wish I could provide the answer, but . . . Well, to be honest, um . . .”
I thought maybe I could . . . But whatever.
“Hi! I’m Glenda. And you are . . .?”
Comma:
The comma has such a variety of uses that I’m often surprised when people assume its primary function is “to let the reader know when to take a breath.” This is a pretty narrow view of a versatile piece of punctuation, often taught in grade school as a simple introduction to the comma.
For those who learned a woodwind instrument, the “breath mark” is a comma (placed above the line like an apostrophe, if you want to get even more confusing) that does indeed show the musician acceptable places to breathe when playing a longer passage.
Though the “take a breath” idea isn’t strictly accurate, judicious use of commas can help readers to pause at the right moments when reading. They may not indicate the longest pause (“Hello, Rita” sounds different than “Hello . . . Rita”) but they can still have an impact on where to place the emphasis in a longer sentence.
Comma-type pauses are naturally shorter, because the reader is typically seeing them as a separator of clauses or items in a list (One, two, three, go! or They ate, and then they all fell asleep on my couch).
Comma pauses can be used almost like parentheses, but other punctuation tends to do a better job in those situations. He sipped his tea, taking in every detail of his surroundings, as he waited for his companion has a different, perhaps more relaxed feel, than dashes in those same spots: He sipped his tea—taking in every detail of his surroundings—as he waited for his companion. In this example, the first instance makes me think the man is waiting for a friend or lover, but the second one sounds like there’s a bit of intrigue or a covert meeting involved.
Colon:
Because a colon is often used to introduce a list of items, it’s easy to see what kind of pause you’ll get when you use one. A colon tells you, Here’s what you want to know: this, and this, and also this. Colons can also allow for suspense or emphasis, like on a game show when the announcer shouts, “Survey says: MEATBALLS!” or when someone writes, Spoiler alert: they did not win the pie-eating contest. The colon says, Hey, you know what? and we lean forward a little, thinking, Yesss? as we wait to hear the rest.
Semicolon:
The semicolon assists nicely when pausing between two related independent clauses. You can save it for those moments when you need more than a comma (no splices, please), but you don’t necessarily want the commitment of a full stop. A semicolon is kind of a “just a moment; be right with you” kind of mark. It can signal But wait! There’s more! when we say something like, “I can’t keep track of all these cats; they’re always hiding in small spaces.”
In recent years, some writers have ridiculed the semicolon as being too pretentious, while others fully admit they just don’t know how and when to use them. I think of semicolons as the type of pause you get when the Ferris wheel at a carnival is letting people on, one car at a time. The wheel pauses, another car gets its riders, and the machine starts up again. The action may stop for just a moment, but it’ll rev up again with something that’s related. We all brought steaks to the cookout; Sam brought a large trout.
Dash (em or en):
I’ve spoken before about my love of the em dash (or even its overseas cousin, the en dash, when I’m editing UK books). And I’ll speak of it again. The dash is the king of all pauses, in my opinion, though you’re allowed to have your own favorites. Dashes can indicate a sharp pause—the abrupt stop of dialogue or a change of direction. They can take the place of commas on occasion, parentheses, and even a colon.
“But I thought you were—” “I know. Everyone did. But as you can see, I’m alive.”
She smiled and nodded—couldn’t hear a word he said, of course, with all the background chatter—and hoped the meal would be over soon.
The emperor pointed his thumb toward the ground—death.
How to pause without a choice in punctuation
Throw a little action in there. “You know what?” She ran her fingers through her hair in frustration. “I’m not doing this anymore.”
Throw a lack of action in there. “Where are you guys going?” He stopped. “I’m not following you into that cave.”
Allow your character to enjoy some internal dialogue or random thoughts. “So I guess I’ll call you on Tuesday.” Did anyone still call people on the phone these days? “Or maybe I’ll just text you or something.”
If you want an entertaining read about how to punctuate dramatic pauses, click on over to this oldie but goodie from Writer’s Relief. You can’t go wrong with an article that describes the ellipsis as the mysterious “punctuation mark sitting at the bar with a dry martini and a secret past that everyone’s dying to know.”