This post is part of a series of follow-ups to the article, “15 habits that make it harder for readers to enjoy your indie story.”
The Short Story
Indiscriminate comma placement works against readability. Many writers stick a comma wherever they’d take a breath when speaking (and nowhere else). But commas are best used with arrow-like precision, to maintain order in your writing. A comma clarifies logical relationships by separating words, or groups of words, in one of several ways.
The Real(ist) Story
If you’re under the impression that a comma belongs wherever you’d take a breath when reading aloud, you aren’t daft. It’s tempting advice for teachers and students alike, because it’s (deceptively) simple and produces tolerable results much of the time. Besides, contrary to popular belief in literary criticism classes, writing isn’t entirely divorced from spoken language.
Yet, “put a comma wherever you take a breath” is aggravating to language professionals because it’s guaranteed to produce some incorrect results, too. Ears and eyes function differently, after all, and sometimes require different signals to interpret meaning correctly.
There’s also a kernel of wisdom in the adage “if in doubt, don’t,” applied to commas, because comma clutter is an editorial sin in itself. Alas, I can’t endorse that counsel, either—with hyphens, perhaps, but not with commas. I encounter too few commas more often than I encounter too many commas. I suspect it’s an acute problem for folks who write so fluently that they don’t take many (mental) breaths. (And for those who use voice-to-text. No further comment.) That’s the impression left on readers, anyway: the stream of inspired consciousness has burst the dam and threatens to drown us. I know I can only read so much underpunctuated narrative without succumbing to the chaos.
Of course, everyone’s a critic. For the sake of being constructive, here are the main reasons I find myself adding commas to writing, in descending order:
To separate words, phrases,1 or clauses2 in a list (series) within a sentence.
To separate clauses within a sentence, with the help of a connecting word (like a conjunction or relative pronoun) that occurs at the beginning of one of the clauses.
To separate an introductory phrase from the main part of a sentence, especially if the phrase comprises multiple words or syllables.
To bracket a parenthetical word or phrase, emphasizing that it’s not the main thought but rather plays an explanatory or other subordinate role, without using punctuation as obtrusive as parentheses or em dashes.
To emphasize contrasting logical elements in a sentence.
To separate words or phrases that might be misread otherwise, at least initially.
Story Time
Here are a few examples of commas in action.3
To separate words, phrases, or clauses in a series:
Hastily, she collected her kit—saddlebag, steel cap, scimitar, bow, and quiver—before slipping away to the mounts.
A comma separates every consecutive pair of terms in this list, including the final pair. The comma after bow is called the Oxford comma, preferred by the forces of order but avoided in the nightmare realm called journalism.
To separate clauses:
She was tired, yes, but if she hesitated or lost focus, she might drop the thread, or her needle might snap.
This is a compound-complex sentence, comprising three clauses. The first bolded comma helps connect the first independent clause to the complex construction. The second bolded comma helps connect the dependent and independent clauses of the complex construction. Note that but and if are the conjunctions connecting the clauses.
To separate an introductory phrase:
Between cinching her bedroll and lashing it to the saddlebag she used as a pillow, Zshurii picked out Cactus’s familiar silhouette from their horse-line, nearer the perimeter.
This prepositional phrase is so lengthy, the comma is non-negotiable. There’s a lot of editorial discretion, and style guides differ, so consistency is the key. I now prefer a comma after most introductory phrases longer than one syllable.
To separate a parenthetical word or phrase:
She was tired, yes, but if she hesitated or lost focus, she might drop the thread, or her needle might snap.
The commas around yes offer emphasis and logical clarity. The comma before the final independent clause is optional. I used it because I wanted her needle might snap to feel parenthetical, instead of giving it the same weight as she might drop the thread.)
Between cinching her bedroll and lashing it to the saddlebag she used as a pillow, Zshurii picked out Cactus’s familiar silhouette from their horse-line, nearer the perimeter.
The final three words are a supplementary phrase adding detail about the horse-line.
Cactus didn’t look, either, but his ears pulled back and his neck strained forward at the sights and sounds of the deadly bolt-clouds.
Either adds a clarifying note of contrast to the relationship between the first clause here and the previous sentence.
To emphasize logical contrast:
Yet, Danuh was still her city. It was home.
To the consternation of ‘90s elementary school teachers, I don’t advocate putting a comma after a coordinating conjunction—and, or, but, for, yet, so—when it’s used as an introductory word. As a matter of professional preference, I make an exception for yet, more often than for or or but, because yet is such an emphatic contrast word. The comma plays to that emphasis. Not only, … but also constructions may fall into both this category and number 2 above.
To prevent misreading or awkward reading:
Before Zshurii or Rhecah could retake the initiative, the prefect brought his scythe up, across his broad chest, and shoved the pole at their necks.
Yes, this example technically falls under number 4 above. But category 6 here represents the reason I chose to make across his broad chest a parenthetical phrase in the first place. When a preposition follows an adverb that’s sometimes also used as a preposition, a reader may experience a split second of mental head-scratching I prefer to avoid. The comma clarifies that the words belong to separate phrases and aren’t two prepositions being used in illogical combination. You might also imagine the comma as a stand-in for and.
As another example, I suggest writing So what as So, what in a declarative sentence so readers are a smidge less likely to mistake it for a flippant So what? on first contact.
And I sometimes recommend a comma before because, depending on the intended logic of the sentence. A comma tells readers the subsequent clause applies to the entire portion of the sentence that comes before, not just the final preceding bit. In She hadn’t enlisted because she possessed Rhecah’s bravery or Cactus’s yearn for adventure, the clause after because provides hypothetical explanations for the character’s decision to enlist, whereas She hadn’t enlisted, because she possessed Rhecah’s bravery or Cactus’s yearn for adventure would explain why she decided not to enlist.
Godspeed and happy rewriting!
Article: Punctuation for clarity
Loosely speaking, a phrase is a group of words with a subject or a verb but not both.
A clause is a group of words including both a subject and its verb. It may or may not form a complete sentence.
The examples are from Daughters of the Rising Sun, a novella version of my Zshurii serial (currently in the Vaporous Realms archives).
Best be aware of where the comma falls.
Lest it be a comma, comma, comma chameleon.
(ducks for cover.)