Dash It All

I have for been several weeks preparing four books for publication: re-releases of the first three Sarah Tolerance Mysteries, to be followed a month later by the release of The Doxies Penalty, the fourth in the series. Because I’m publishing with an independent micro-press, I’m doing a lot of the production work myself, which means I have been engaging with my own text up close and personal.

The good news? I still like all four books. I can find passages that give me pleasure (and have found comparatively few that make me wince and say “what was the Author thinking?” This is not always the case when looking over your old work. But of course, as I read, I notice things. Like,” damn, the Author uses a lot of em-dashes.”

A thing to know about me: my major in college was theatre, and while I mostly did behind-the-scenes stuff (props and costumes and especially stage management) I did a good deal of performing. Having read a lot of plays and thought in terms of performance then, when I’m writing now I think in terms of the weight and rhythm of words as they’re spoken aloud. If I’m reading my own work I  want markers, flags for performance. Thus em-dashes, which I think are most useful pieces of punctuation for capturing the rhythm of the way people speak.

Much as I love Jane Austen’s books, in real life people rarely speak in full sentences. People interrupt themselves–and others–all the time. For people interrupting themselves, I suppose one could use the parenthesis (another of my favorite forms of punctuation). But because there’s usually an imperative quality to interruptions, and abruptness, I prefer em-dashes.

Here’s a bit from my new Sarah Tolerance book, The Doxies’ Penalty:

“I would think you’d prefer to hand him to Sir Walter—”

“In the general way, we’d find ‘im some justice from our own—if ‘e’s one of ours. Look, I cannot promise to look out for the fellow, nor give him up, without I ask a blessing to it.”

There’s an interruption of the first speaker, which really demands an em-dash. And the second speaker interrupting himself to qualify what he’s saying. I could, in justice, use a comma to set off “if ‘e’s one of ours.” But the comma doesn’t imply the sort of emphasis that self-interruption usually requires. 

You could say that I’m leaving myself—and other performers—information on how to read the words, aloud or otherwise.

When I was doing a final pass on the manuscript for Doxies I did a search for the old-style double-hyphen which (in typewriter days) stood in for an em-dash, which would be added later in typesetting. Because sometimes I use a double hyphen rather than Option-Shift-Hyphen (on a Mac keyboard). And inevitably I find some. I also find inconsistent spacing around my em-dashes, and other typographic horrors requiring repair. I am closing in on my deadline to hand the MS over to the formatter, and I want to make their work as pain-free as possible.

If all goes well, The Doxies Penalty, Sarah Tolerance #4, will be available mid-October.* And yes, that was a plug. When you’re working with a micr0-press you also have to pitch in on marketing where you can.

__________

*The first three books in the series, Point of Honour, Petty Treason, and The Sleeping Partner, will be re-released in September. See comment above about marketing.

 

4 thoughts on “Dash It All

  1. That is a very good explanation of the use of em dashes, which I also adore and use frequently. And yeah, I use a double hyphen as a rule, which sometimes gets changed to an em dash by the word processing program and sometimes does not. I learned my keyboard skills on a manual typewriter, and while I have stopped double-spacing after a period, I still have typewriter habits. I am a writer, not a typesetter, being old enough to remember hot type.

    And I am so looking forward to The Doxies Penalty as well as the reissues of the other three. I often re-read them just for the way you use the language in them.

  2. My father designed (among other things) type. We had various impedimenta for type and typesetting used decoratively around the house; my mother could type 105 words a minute on a manual typewriter. So I come by some of my habits honestly. The best I could manage then was to learn to type fast and inaccurately, and some of the things I learned (including the double-hyphen and the double space after a period) were ingrained. When I remember, I do it differently. And when I’m done with a manuscript I do a search-and-replace.

    Even then, things creep through.

    1. At the small town paper where my mother worked when I was in high school they had the early versions of typesetting machines for cold type. My parents had a better one at the paper they started in the 70s, but if I’m remembering right both machines produced a tape that was fed into something to produce typeset columns for paste-up. They hired very good typists to run those machines. I could set headlines on a machine that did them photographically, which included processing them like photos and was done in a darkroom, but that was done letter by letter and no one was expected to do it super fast.

      Given my typing — which is reasonably fast, but error prone — the development of correcting typewriters followed by computers was a wondrous thing. Things such as spell check and search and replace are great inventions. But unfortunately the software designers keep adding unnecessary bells and whistles, including the stupid AI.

      Also, I could never set type because I am constitutionally unable to retype something without rewriting it.

  3. I became very tangled with use of all dashes and hyphens when I began to write for US audiences. One day I will sort this out. Or not. it’s odd, though, that I never became tangled with colons and semi-colons. US editors so often need to ‘correct’ me, and yet I don’t change the way I use them.

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