Reader,

How would you describe your relationship with punctuation?

My answer to that question: "an unhealthy obsession."

I doubt you've ever met someone who loves the Oxford comma as much as I do. Whenever I encounter a list of things that's missing the final comma, I have to take a minute to compose myself. "It's okay," I say in between deep breaths. "Jesus still loves that person."

So, imagine my consternation when I encountered this first line from Kent Haruf's novel Plainsong:

I've seen middle schooler text messages with more punctuation.

My first instinct is to "fix" the sentence by adding all the commas that "ought" to be there:

But is that version of the sentence any better? I think not.

Commas make your reader pause. They're like flashing yellow lights at an intersection: seeing them, you naturally slow down, swiveling your head to make sure you avoid a collision.

But what happens when, say, you encounter four such intersections in the space of four blocks? If you're like me, you're going to be severely frustrated and wish you'd taken a different route.

And that's kind of how my "fixed" sentence feels.

What I discovered when I kept reading Plainsong is that Haruf's writing is all about the sound of things. And while this quality takes some getting used to, it creates a powerful effect.

Just consider the impact of his opening sentence.

First, it introduces us to a key character and tells us that he's uneasy through the subtlety of a single phrase: "smoking cigarettes." If Tom Guthrie was simply "smoking a cigarette," we'd think he was enjoying the sunrise. However, because he's standing there long enough to smoke multiple cigarettes, we intuitively feel that all is not well.

Second, the lack of punctuation itself makes us feel uneasy. There are so many words and phrases that we're not sure, at first, what to focus on. Tom? The back window? His house? The cigarettes? The back lot? The sunrise?

Punctuation often highlights a sentence's main takeaway, allowing us to move forward without much thought. But here, Haruf compels us to pause and wonder just what we're actually seeing.

It's a daring move for a writer, especially for a first sentence. And yet, as I discovered when I kept reading, it's remarkably effective.

I'm not ready to give up on the Oxford comma yet, but this sentence has made me wonder what it would be like to be more playful with my punctuation. If you want to join me in finding out, you can follow this little writing exercise:

• Write a sentence of at least 30 words about a person and a scene, punctuating normally (whatever that means for you).
• Now remove all punctuation except for the period. What's different? What do you see?
• Write that sentence three more ways, restoring different punctuation each time. Pay attention to how the different versions reveal different things about your character and scene.

You could also complete this exercise with someone else's sentence. Just pick up a favorite novel or memoir (or some other narrative) and choose a sentence to play around with.

Happy writing,

JF.