Main units:

• Verbal Agreements
• Placement Services
• Pronouns Are Not for Amateurs
• Countererrorist Measures
• The Comma-ist Manifesto
• Punctuational Punctilio
• A Miscellany of Malpractice
  

  ^^  78 

Not knowing where one sentence comes to an end and the next one begins is no way for a writer to live. Yet the boundary between sentences—or, to be more precise, between independent clauses—often ends up mispunctuated. The result is the sentence-structure catastrophe classified as the comma-splice error.

Teachers of English were once fond of the term sentence sense, which referred to a writer’s intuitive grasp of whether a group of words is grammatically complete as a sentence. The term merits a revival, because sentence sense is on the decline. In the sample sentence, we should instantly recognize that the writer has in fact given us two sentences—You can even listen without a computer and All you need is a network—but hasn’t erected a solid punctuational barrier between them. Each of those two sentences could stand on its own, so the writer might have simply replaced the comma with a period and uppercased the a in all.

The writer most likely recognized, however, that the two sentences, or independent clauses, belonged together. The writer, that is, wanted a compound sentence—a sentence comprising two or more independent clauses closely related in meaning. The punctuation mark that the writer needed was a semicolon, not a comma. A semicolon correctly separates two interrelated independent clauses.

If the writer wanted to throw some dramatic emphasis on the second clause, the writer might have separated the clauses with a dash.

A dash would be an elegant substitute for the erroneous comma in the following sentence as well.

The comma, though, was dead wrong. A comma can do a great many things, but one thing it can’t do (except in one very special circumstance, discussed in the side note at the end of this chapter) is serve all alone as the divider between independent clauses.

Here, too, a period, a semicolon, or a dash could correctly be substituted for the comma. (And a hyphen should be inserted between Greek and food in the second independent clause; see Chapter 86.)
     Some mispunctuated compound sentences are crying out for a coordinating conjunction to follow the comma. There are only seven coordinating conjunctions in the English language: and, expressing an additive relationship; but and yet, expressing a contrastive relationship; or and nor, separating alternatives; for, expressing a cause or a reason; and so, expressing a result, an effect, or a consequence.

Other mispunctuated compound sentences already include a different kind of conjunction—a conjunctive adverb—to join the two independent clauses, but the conjunctive adverb hasn’t been punctuated correctly.

A semicolon, not a comma, must precede a conjunctive adverb that joins two independent clauses, and a comma must almost always follow the conjunctive adverb. There are far more conjunctive adverbs than there are coordinating conjunctions. The most frequently used conjunctive adverbs include also, additionally, furthermore, finally, however, nevertheless, therefore, thus, consequently, indeed, similarly, likewise, meanwhile, soon, then, afterward, and later. Transitional phrases such as the following often serve as conjunctive adverbs as well: in addition, for example, for instance, in fact, after all, in other words, that is, that is to say, in conclusion, in short, to sum up, in sum, and in brief.
     The conjunctive adverb most frequently mispunctuated by professional writers is then, which happens to be one of the few conjunctive adverbs that don’t require a comma afterward.

The comma before then in each of those seven sentences must be replaced by a semicolon. An alternative is to insert the coordinating conjunction and after the comma preceding then.
     Any writer who resorts to using plus as a conjunctive adverb must punctuate it as such.

A final type of comma-splice error occurs when a writer sandwiches attribution between halves of a direct quotation that consists of the equivalent of two complete sentences. A period or a semicolon, not a comma, must follow the attribution.

PATTERNS FOR CORRECTLY PUNCTUATING COMPOUND SENTENCES
1. Independent clause + semicolon + independent clause + period
2. Independent clause + semicolon + conjunctive adverb + comma + independent clause + period
3. Independent clause + colon + independent clause + period (see Chapter 82)
4. Independent clause + dash + independent clause + period
5. Independent clause + opening parenthesis + independent clause + closing parenthesis + period (see Chapter 85)

Those examples illustrate the two most striking characteristics of an asyndetonic sentence: the independent clauses must be brief, and they must be grammatically parallel (see Chapter 41).
     Asyndetonic sentences come in two varieties. The first, to which the Caesar quotation belongs, consists of compound sentences in which there are two or more independent clauses expressing an additive relationship; the coordinating conjunction and is implied between the second-last and final clauses: We tried, we failed, we tried again. The second category, to which the Wolcott sentence belongs, consists of variations on the It’s not X, it’s Y pattern, which is often called contrastive or antithetical phrasing: It’s not the heat, it’s the humidity.
     Asyndetonic phrasing can be stylish and sophisticated, but it’s best used sparingly.

  ^^  79 

Readers of that title will fall into two groups. The first will consist of readers generous enough in spirit to recognize that the writer simply forgot to insert a much-needed comma after time. They will good-naturedly insert a mental comma and go on with their lives.
     The second group, though, will be thinking, Where’s the other half of the sentence? They will have intuited that the phrase at the time is functioning similarly to a subordinating conjunction such as when or while. In short, they will misread the word-group as a fragment, because they feel that they’ve been led to expect the arrival of an independent clause—such as I was getting lots of dirty looks—to explain what else was happening at that same time and thereby to complete the sentence. Such readers will feel no frustration, though, if they see a comma after time.
     Easily misreadable sentences beginning with at the time or at the same time are common. In the following sentences, a comma after time will set things right.

Sentences readily misinterpretable as fragments almost always begin with an unpunctuated introductory adverbial phrase—sometimes prepositional, as in the examples above, as well as in the following.

Consider, first, a much shorter word-group: In the attic her mother wrote poetry. Some readers will instantly sense a phantom where or in which after in the attic and expect an independent clause (such as the summer heat was stifling) to follow. That is, In the attic her mother wrote poetry, with a period at its end, is easily mistaken for a fragment. A good writer will not mislead her readers about the direction in which she is taking them. A comma after In the attic will immediately enable readers to regard the word-group as a complete sentence. Similarly, some readers will feel that the word-group about the photographer Bill Brandt (in which, once again, an invisible where or in which can make itself felt between darkroom and Brandt) is pointing them toward an independent clause (such as he achieved another breakthrough) that never materializes.

A reader is otherwise likely to sense an implied at which after university and expect an independent clause, such as I also met the love of my life, to round out the construction.
      Prepositional phrases aren’t the only adverbial introductory phrases that, if left unpunctuated, can result in sentences likely to strike readers as fragments.

Commas after the adverbial phrases The night before and While in junior high school at the start of the following sentences will save the day.

Finally, notice how easily the following sentence would appear to become a fragment if the comma following Soon after were omitted.

Soon after, her marriage to Mr. Barton, which had gone through a brief hiatus in the late ’90s, began to unwind. (New York Times)

  ^^  80 

Asymmetrical punctuation, such as that in the title of this chapter (which needs a dash after forget), is too common for us to write it off as merely a typographical error. Maybe it’s a punctuational symptom of our culture of acceleration, in which we’re so rushed that we sometimes end up doing things by halves.
     An interruptive element—a word, a phrase, or a dependent clause with which a writer delivers supplemental information to a
reader—needs punctuation both before it and after it. A pair of commas, dashes, or parentheses will do the trick. Of the two interruptive elements (a new documentary film and though politely) in the following excerpt, only the second has been correctly punctuated at both ends.

The punctuation mark at one end of an interruptive element must be identical to that at the other end.

An appositive phrase (arias of acid indigestion), which is positioned at the end of the first independent clause in a sentence constituted of two independent clauses joined by the coordinating conjunction and, has been set off at one end with a dash and at the other end with a comma. Such mixing won’t do.

Here, a participial phrase (set to the tune Hooray for Hollywood) has been punctuated asymmetrically. (And if you are wondering why, in the parenthesized phrasing in the first sentence of this paragraph, the entire participial phrase hasn’t been italicized, congratulate yourself for being an unusually alert reader. Italicizing is used throughout this book [1] whenever a word or a phrase is being referred to as a word or a phrase—that is, as a combination of letters or several combinations of letters—and [2] whenever a word, a phrase, or clause functions as the title of a lengthy, stand-alone work, such as a book, a film, or a CD. But if one or more words were already italicized in the source being cited, as were the words forming the song title in the excerpt from USA Today, those words must now be presented in standard, or Roman, type. Song titles, though, are typically enclosed by quotation marks instead of being italicized, and quotation marks are used in the revisions below.)

The interruptive element is sometimes only a single word.

Sometimes the interrupter is a prepositional phrase.

If the interruptive element is a prepositional phrase with three or more objects in a series punctuated with commas, you might consider setting off the interruptive element with dashes or parentheses to avoid a congestion of commas.

More often, the interrupter is an appositive of the throwaway variety (see Chapter 66).

The interrupter sometimes consists of an appositive followed by parenthesized phrasing. A comma must be inserted after the closing parenthesis in each of the following two sentences.

The next specimen is only superficially similar to the preceding two examples. The punctuation is in fact perfect but can easily be misread as asymmetrical.

The phrasing Blake . . . (Knopf, $30) is not an interruptive appositive, though it may at first appear to be; it’s actually the subject of the sentence. And what may at first appear to be the subject of the sentence (An insanely stuffed biography) is intended to be read as an appositive. Because the sentence invites misreading, a writer might consider rephrasing it.

The interrupter is sometimes a nonessential or throwaway adjectival dependent clause (see Chapter 72).

Interrupters can also consist of prepositional phrases, participial phrases, or adjectival dependent clauses followed by parenthesized phrasing. A comma must follow the closing parenthesis in each of the following five excerpts. (The second and fourth excerpts also lack serial commas; see Chapter 64.)

Asymmetrical punctuation is also common in sentences in which an interruptive element begins with a coordinating conjunction such as or or and.

Finally, the interrupter can be a hybrid, such as a pair of prepositional phrases followed by an adjectival dependent clause.

  ^^  81 

Every semicolon erects a much-needed barrier between major structural components of a sentence. Sometimes, unfortunately, the barriers are set up in places that make for rough going in the sentence’s verbal pathway. The semicolons become obstructions. A writer’s use of semicolons should never obscure the design of a sentence—particularly the jointure where the subject meets the predicate. In fact, the only phrasing a reader should ever expect to find after a semicolon is either (1) the equivalent of another complete sentence or (2) one or more additional elements in a series (a) that will bring a sentence to a close or (b) that is set off at both ends, with either dashes or parentheses, as an interruptive element.
     One of the standard uses of the semicolon is to separate items in a series when at least one of them includes a comma as interior punctuation.

In that sentence, the series (functioning as the direct object of the transitive verb included) brings the sentence to an end. When a reader sees a semicolon, she expects it to be followed by phrasing equivalent in grammatical status to the phrasing that precedes it. Her expectations will not be thwarted as long as a series in which semicolons separate the items is positioned at the end of a sentence. Increasingly, though, writers are positioning a semicoloned series at the very start of a sentence or, without strong enough punctuation to set it off, somewhere in the middle of a sentence—and the results can be disorienting.

A reader can’t help sensing that things are seriously out of whack in the design of that sentence. The punctuational dividers between the elements in the midsentence series are stronger than the divider between the two principal parts of the sentence: the complete subject (Lichtenstein’s large-featured images) and the predicate (are almost ergonomically comfortable to the eye), both of which flap about flimsily at the beginning and the end instead of striking a reader as weighted and stationary. The semicolons become punctuational blockades and wall off the three parts of the series from each other so solidly that the dividing line between the simple subject and the first word of the predicate (that is, between images and are)—which should be the most conspicuous boundary-marking line in the sentence—ends up obscured, because the writer failed to insert a comma after colors to mark the end of the long interruptive element. In fact, it’s easy for a reader to misconstrue and flat, bright colors are almost ergonomically comfortable to the eye as an independent clause unto itself, a misreading that would lead the reader to conclude that the three items in the series are nonparallel (see Chapter 41).
     The result is an ungainly sentence; it looks off-kilter. Most of the weight of the sentence is in the long prepositional phrase attached to the subject. In the revisions below, the core words of the subject and of the predicate (images and are, respectively) stand out unmistakably.

Following are guidelines to help you relieve semicolonic blockages in sentences you are writing or editing.
     First, when the introductory phrasing of a sentence includes a series whose elements are set off by semicolons, either substitute commas for the semicolons and parenthesize any supplementary phrasing, or rework the introductory element (or the entire sentence) so that semicolons are no longer needed.

Or you might simply turn such a sentence on its head to eliminate the top-heaviness.

The next four specimens are unusually off-balance and top-heavy sentences.

A reader occasionally encounters two or more introductory adverbial dependent clauses stacked upon a foundational structure such as the phrasing I would argue that, as in the following sentence.

If you take a wrecking ball to that foundation and let the adverbial dependent clauses stand on their own as introductory elements, the wrongness of the semicolons becomes more readily apparent.

The wrongness of the semicolons is that they have been forced to do something a semicolon must never do: separate an adverbial dependent clause from an independent clause. In the specimen sentence, a series of four consecutive adverbial dependent clauses have been walled off from the climactic, sentence-ending independent clause that they all share.
     The easiest solution is to substitute commas for the semicolons and to insert the coordinating conjunction and before the final dependent clause in the series.

Second, when a series whose elements are set off with semicolons functions as the subject of a sentence, either rewrite the sentence so that semicolons are no longer needed in the subject, or use an inverted-sentence pattern.

A subject in semicoloned-list form can be repurposed as a series of introductory appositives followed by a dash and a capping independent clause.

Third, when a series of elements set off with semicolons functions as an appositive at the start of a sentence, reposition the appositive after the subject, and set off the appositive with either a pair of dashes or a pair of parentheses.

Fourth, when a series of elements set off with semicolons functions as an appositive following the subject of a sentence, use either a pair of dashes or a pair of parentheses to set off the series.

Notice how the end of the sentence—and Eric Gilbert, an assistant professor at the university, said the weather’s seeming sway over reviews surprised them the most—is easily mistaken for an independent clause, when in fact the reader is supposed to recognize said the weather’s seeming sway over reviews surprised them the most as the predicate of the subject of the sentence: the researchers.

The final guidelines concern series functioning as interruptive elements (other than appositives) that are positioned between the subject and the predicate of a clause or between an independent clause and a dependent clause.
     In the nounal dependent clause of the following specimen, three infinitive phrases separated by semicolons awkwardly block off the subject (advice) from its predicate (is all right there in Chapter V). The clumsiness can be resolved by substituting commas for the semicolons and by using a pair of dashes or a pair of parentheses to set off the supplementary phrasing at the end of the third element in the series.

When a series whose elements are set off with semicolons functions as the compound object of a preposition in a prepositional phrase following the subject of a sentence, use a pair of dashes or a pair of parentheses to set off the prepositional phrase, as in the revision of the sentence about Roy Lichtenstein earlier in this chapter, or rephrase the sentence in inverted form.

In the revision of the next specimen, the independent clause has been moved to the start of the sentence and the two introductory lists (the first of which includes semicoloned elements) have been moved to the very end.

When the subject of a sentence is followed by an interruptive element in which a series whose members are set off with semicolons functions as the compound object of a preposition in a prepositional phrase attached to a participle, use a pair of dashes or a pair of parentheses to set off the interruptive element.

When an independent clause is separated from a dependent clause by an interruptive element that includes a series whose members are separated by semicolons, use a pair of dashes or a pair of parentheses to set off the interruptive element, or, when possible, substitute commas for the semicolons.

Some semicolonic blockages can prove especially difficult to unblock.

In sum, as you proceed with caution to ensure readability in any sentence with a series whose elements are separated by semicolons, your options often include shifting the series to the end of the sentence or setting the series off at both ends with dashes or parentheses.
     If one or more items in a series do not include commas, there is no pressing need for semicolons in the first place.

The semicolons in the following sentence may have been inserted for emphasis, but the series would lose none of its force if commas were substituted.

To the left of the semicolon is a word-group that cannot stand on its own as a grammatically complete sentence (it consists of nothing more than a hybrid introductory element: a prepositional phrase to which a dependent clause has been attached, followed by a parenthesized prepositional phrase); to the right of the semicolon, however, is an independent clause—a word-group that can stand on its own as a complete sentence.

Second, a semicolon is positioned before a conjunctive adverb (such as however or therefore) that joins two consecutive independent clauses. A comma almost always follows the conjunctive adverb (see Chapter 78).

Third, as illustrated earlier in this chapter, semicolons separate elements in a series when one or more of the elements include interior commas.
     Avoid punctuational inconsistency in any such series. Make sure that a semicolon, not a comma (or, worse, no punctuation at all), precedes the final element—regardless of whether the final element is preceded by the coordinating conjunction and.

Finally, make sure that in any sentence including two or more semicolons, the phrasing set off by the semicolons is grammatically parallel (see Chapter 41).

The first semicolon is preceded by an independent clause; the second semicolon is preceded by an elliptical independent clause (the verb phrase is made has been intentionally withheld); and following the second semicolon and the coordinating conjunction and is phrasing consisting of merely a prepositional phrase and a noun phrase. The closer one reads the sentence, the more one realizes that the sentence does not really include a three-part series; what is punctuated as if it were the third element in a series is in fact a detail that supplements the information provided in the second element. The sentence, it turns out, has no need for semicolons at all.

  ^^  82 

A reader expects that a colon following an independent clause will serve as a gateway to phrasing that offers examples or elaborations or clarifications to supplement and enrich her understanding of what has already been stated. The colon is a portal to climactic phrasing that will wrap things up for a sentence. A reader encountering a colon therefore has every reason to believe that a terminal punctuation mark is just around the corner. The last thing she expects is that after presenting the examples or elaborations or clarifications, the sentence will gets its second wind and go heading off in a new direction. But writers sometimes lose sight of the fact that a colon signals that sentential closure is about to be achieved.

The reader of the phrasing that precedes the colon in that sentence will be correct in assuming that the only business remaining to be done is to specify the two types of people into which all of humankind is divisible. Because the writer has positioned a colon after people, the sentence has to come to an end after believers and skeptics. Its work will then be finished. Instead, though, the writer keeps moving forward after the specification and delivers a second statement. And by annexing an independent clause (the equivalent of a stand-alone sentence) to the noun phrase following the colon, the writer has failed to respect and honor boundaries. The results are ramshackle. A writer gets one shot at winding things down after a colon—and that’s it. In the phrasing that follows a colon, there can be no second acts.

Here, in the second sentence of the excerpt, the colon introducing the quotation leads the reader to assume that the sentence will call it quits as soon as Santayana has had his say. The trouble, though, is not only that the quotation is followed by the equivalent of a complete sentence but also that the phrasing preceding the colon is merely an adverbial dependent clause. Any colon introducing a quotation needs to be preceded either by a word-group consisting of at least an independent clause (even something as short and sweet as She said) or by a simple little word or phrase such as Thus or Another example.
     In the mispunctuated sentence above, the quotation is functioning as a throwaway appositive (see Chapter 67). The quotation thus needs to be set off at both ends with symmetrical punctuation—a pair of commas (not a stylistically desirable alternative here, though, because the quotation already includes a comma within its phrasing), a pair of dashes, or a pair of parentheses—and not with the asymmetrical punctuation of a colon at one end and a comma at the other (see Chapter 80).

The asymmetrical punctuation in this specimen is also troubling. There is no place for a colon in the sentence. In fact, the colon muddles the structure of the sentence before the writers have had a chance to present the subject in its entirety. The writers intended cooks, critics or simply lovers of Good Food to be regarded as a throwaway appositive (see Chapter 66), so it needs to be set off at both ends with identical punctuation. A pair of parentheses makes more sense here than a pair of dashes, because the second dash would be forced into multitasking (see Chapter 84).

The error in all five excerpts is commonly called a comma splice (see Chapter 78). In each sentence, a colon must replace the comma that precedes the quotation.
     Second, a colon separates the equivalent of a complete sentence from another sentence-equivalent that elaborates on, refashions, or illustrates the statement that precedes the colon. The colon differs from the semicolon in that a semicolon asserts nothing more than that the two sentence-equivalents it separates are somehow related in meaning. The colon steers the reader toward a capping statement.

The first independent clause in the sentence is introducing a series whose elements are each phrased in the form of a sentence-equivalent, so a colon is more stylistically desirable than a semicolon. The colon politely points the reader forward to that series.

Third, the colon separates the equivalent of a complete sentence from a single word or a phrase that clarifies, restates, or exemplifies the statement expressed by the phrasing that precedes the colon. (A dash would also be appropriate.) Writers sometimes choose a comma instead. That choice can be stylistically unfortunate, especially if the sentence already includes two or more commas.

Fourth, the colon is used to direct the reader forward from the equivalent of a complete sentence to a pair or a list of items. (A dash would also be appropriate.) Unfortunately, writers sometimes resort to a semicolon or a comma instead.

Here, the semicolon following worlds lacks the gateway function of the colon; the semicolon is not ushering the reader toward a clarification of the phrasing the best of both worlds.

There’s only a slight risk that a reader will mistake the sentence for one presenting a series in the undesirable a, b and c form (see Chapter 64), but the comma after ideals merely separates instead of pointing forward.

It’s easy for a reader to reach the mistaken conclusion that a total of four portfolios had been assembled. Substituting a colon for a comma after samples will instantly clarify that the phrasing following samples constitutes a two-part throwaway appositive (see Chapter 66) and not the second and third items in a three-item series.

If the slot occupied by the noun bed were replaced by a noun synonymous with sauce or by a noun naming a sauce, a reader would have no trouble recognizing early on that this is not a sentence presenting a series of three elements but instead a sentence whose purpose is to specify and describe the two sauces introduced in the independent clause. Bed, however, suggests that the writer is not going to name the sauces but instead will continue listing ways in which the chef has embellished the cod. (And not all readers, after all, will immediately know that skordalia is a sauce.) When the reader reaches a blanket of tomato sauce, she needs to make another mental readjustment, because she now realizes that the sentence is in fact going to do nothing more than elaborate on the two sauces. But she still hasn’t resolved all of the problems that the writer has burdened her with, because the headwords (bed and blanket) in the two appositive phrases are not logical substitutes for sauce. The writer’s playful figurative language doesn’t quite work. The quick rejiggerings below relegate bed and blanket to a backgrounding adjectival status (with bed as the object in a prepositional phrase functioning adjectivally and the noun blanket downgraded to the descriptive participle blanketing) and bring the names of the sauces themselves to the foreground. Note how the comma is less reader-friendly than the colon (or the dash) in guiding the reader toward the two-part appositive.

A reader doesn’t know how to take the second sentence. Is it intended to list three different things that Pop Art is about—namely, daily consumption, the democratic appetite, and getting more of everything, cheap? If so, the series has been punctuated inconsistently.

Or, more likely, is the phrasing following the lone semicolon intended to function as a two-part elaboration on what the writer means by daily consumption? If so, substitute a colon for the semicolon.

The comma following popcorn lacks the gateway function of a colon.

There’s at least a slim chance that some readers will conclude that Garbo had six, not three, persons on staff—three servants, two maids, and a chauffeur. A colon following servants will eliminate any ambiguity.

Here the reader has even more reason to wonder whether she is grasping the intended meaning. How many newsroom-staff employees were fired: three or six—or possibly even seven (are the editor in chief and Constance C. R. White the same person, or are Ms. White and the beauty editor the same person)? The writer most likely intended the reader to regard the phrasing following staff as a throwaway appositive (see Chapter 66) that provides information about three fired employees, only one of whom is identified by name, so why leave a reader in doubt? (The results of an Internet search confirm that Ms. White had been the editor in chief.)

  ^^  83 

Although it might seem dictatorial for anyone to issue a decree limiting the number of times a punctuation mark might legitimately appear in a single sentence, you will be doing your readers a favor if you restrict yourself to no more than two dashes. One would never make such a restriction on parentheses, however, even though a pair of dashes and a pair of parentheses share a common function: to set off interruptive phrasing. But among the ways in which paired dashes and parentheses differ is in their very appearance. An opening parenthesis is immediately identifiable by its shape, and the same goes for a closing parenthesis. Neither will ever be mistaken for the other. An opening dash and a closing dash, though, are indistinguishable.
     In a sentence with a slew of parentheses, a reader will never be confused about where an interruptive element begins and where it ends. A sentence with a design such as the following presents no problems for a reader.
_____(_______)_________(__________)______ _______________(_____)_________________ (_________________).
     Without even reading words, a reader can tell not only that there are four interruptive elements but also where each one starts and ends.
     But what about a sentence like the following?
____—_______— _______ —__________— ____________—_____—________________—_________________.
     Before reaching the midpoint, many readers will be pitched into uncertainty about whether any particular dash, other than the first two dashes, marks the beginning or marks the end of an interruptive element.
     Bear in mind, as well, that a closing parenthesis is often followed by another punctuation mark (most frequently a comma, but sometimes a semicolon, a colon, or even a dash). Those additional punctuation marks further help the reader easily discern the overall design of a sentence.
_____(_______), _______ (                ), _______________(_____); ________________ (_________________).
     A dash, on the other hand (see Chapter 84), is never followed by another punctuation mark within a sentence.
     Even sentences in which the dashed-off interruptive phrasing (and sometimes the surrounding phrasing as well) is fairly brief can be mildly disorienting. Parentheses can come to the rescue.

In a sentence with two pairs of dashes that are setting off elements of equal importance, the reader-friendly way to remodel the sentence, then, is to substitute parentheses for the dashes, as the following excerpts and revisions illustrate.

Readability diminishes further when a sentence with more than two dashes increases in length. In the second sentence of the excerpt below, some confusion arises about whether the writer intended the second interruptive element to end with rip or with Cline. Parentheses are simply more reader-friendly than dashes in such a sentence.

When you find yourself using more than one pair of dashes in a sentence, why not ask yourself whether all but one of the dashed-off elements might be enclosed between parentheses (or set off with commas) instead? It’s best to reserve the dashes for the interruptive element of greater (or greatest) importance.

Overdashed sentences can cause other mischief, too.

A sentence like the one above can leave a reader vertiginous. The trouble is the ease with which she can mistake the second and third dashes for enclosive dashes, as well as the ease with which she can lose her grasp of whether there are two consecutive interruptive elements instead of just one. Making matters worse, the second dash is a multitasking dash (see Chapter 84). The eccentric and unhelpful punctuation of the sentence obscures the uncomplicated structure, in which a transitive verb (adored) is followed by a series of four direct objects.

In a bird’s-eye view of the sentence, a reader cannot help assuming, initially, that the first and second dashes are setting off a very long interruptive element. If that interruptive element were removed from the sentence, the reader would be left with Under his own name and many aliases, Otto Katz would serve the Party well—according to intelligence sources—as an arranger of political murders. That truncated sentence does in fact make sense, but when the reader returns to the original sentence and reads through it carefully, she will discover that the first and second dashes are not actually working in tandem to set off an interruptive element. Instead, the first dash is functioning singly as an informal substitute for a colon to introduce a five-part series, and it’s the second and third dashes that are together setting off an interruptive element.

The following overdashed sentence has so many interruptive elements, two of which have already been parenthesized, that replacing dashes with even more parentheses is not going to make the sentence more reader-friendly.

And what to do about a sentence with three pairs of dashes?

Asymmetrical punctuation (see Chapter 80) sometimes arises from promiscuous dashing, further diminishing readability.

The first and second dashes each set off the left-hand side of an appositive—but in each case, a comma sets off the right-hand side. Substituting dashes for the two commas would further overdash the sentence by adding a fourth dash to a sentence already cluttered with three.

It was either Peter Asher, Head of A&R at the Beatles’ Apple label, or Tony Cox, an arranger with connections at Island (not Terry Cox of Pentangle, as has been suggested), who recommended that Boyd use Richard Hewson to do the arrangements for Five Leaves Left. OR: It was either Peter Asher (Head of A&R at the Beatles’ Apple label) or Tony Cox (an arranger with connections at Island)—but not Terry Cox of Pentangle, as has been suggested—who recommended that Boyd use Richard Hewson to do the arrangements for Five Leaves Left. OR: It was either Peter Asher (Head of A&R at the Beatles’ Apple label) or Tony Cox (an arranger with connections at Island), and not Terry Cox of Pentangle, as has been suggested, who recommended that Boyd use Richard Hewson to do the arrangements for Five Leaves Left.

  ^^  84 

Something seems more than slightly off—to exacting readers, anyway—when the closing dash in a pair of dashes has been asked to function simultaneously in two different ways: (1) as the second half of a pair of dashes setting set off interruptive phrasing and (2) as the equivalent of a comma (or a semicolon, or even a single dash [that is, a dash that is not half of a pair]).
     A dash works best when it’s asked to perform only one function. A multitasking dash easily dumbfounds a reader.

The second dash is the source of the confusion. A reader needs a few seconds to discern the architecture of the phrasing and conclude that the sentence is presenting a three-element series and that the first element is followed by a pair of interruptive prepositional phrases. The second dash is being asked (1) to bring an interruptive element to its close, which, of course, a dash is perfectly capable of doing (much as a closing parenthesis or a comma would be), and (2) to separate the second item in a series from the first, which only a comma (or a semicolon [see Chapter 81]) can do. The poor reader is expected to recognize that the dash has been called upon to perform two entirely different roles.
     Ideally, when a dashed-off element is removed from a sentence, what remains should be perfectly intelligible, as in the following example.

Extract the dashed-off interruptive element from the Times sentence under consideration above, though, and you’re left with the unpunctuated near-nonsense of The air around them is charged with anxiety intellectual restlessness and sexual curiosity. The words anxiety and intellectual abut in a meaning-defeating way.
     In sentences of that sort, the reader is better served by parentheses, because a comma can follow a closing parenthesis but cannot (in post-nineteenth-century punctuation) follow a dash. Filling the slot between anxiety and intellectual restlessness, though, is going to require the insertion of more than one kind of punctuation mark.

Delete the dashed-off phrasing, and spicy crashes unpunctuatedly into topped: But it tastes like magic: smooth, sweet, and spicy topped off with your choice of spirit. . . .

A rule, then? If the removal of any dashed-off phrasing results in the abutment of two grammatically or syntactically incompatible words, replace the pair of dashes with a pair of parentheses, and insert after the closing parenthesis whichever punctuation mark, such as a comma, is needed to ensure smooth, effortless reading.

Strike out the dashed-off phrasing at the end of the first of three items in the series, and the noun schedule is now rubbing itself unbecomingly against the verb rolled.

Here, too, the interruptive element set off with dashes ends up obscuring, rather than clarifying, the design of the sentence—in this case, a sentence with a four-element series. If the dashed-off element were removed, the reader would be left with the statement Lyfe will rely on digital order-taking, G.P.S. customer location online ordering and mobile apps, in which customer location and online ordering bump up against each other bafflingly.

The following sentence also presents a series, though on a larger scale than in previous examples. (The sentence, in fact, is overcrammed.) A reader can easily begin to lose her bearings soon after the second dash.

The next example, though less elaborate than the preceding one (because it doesn’t present a series), is nonetheless slovenly. It includes two consecutive interruptive elements, the second of which is set off with dashes.

The removal of the dashed-off phrasing would leave the reader with The site, laden with steles and oversize statue heads has rich potential for any sculptor, in which the interruptive participial phrase laden with steles and oversize statue heads is set off with a comma at only one end. The second dash in the original sentence therefore was pressed into service in a double capacity—to serve both as a dash and as a comma. Substituting parentheses for the dashes and inserting a comma following the closing parenthesis will leave the sentence punctuationally tidy.

If the dashed-off element is subtracted, house and their grind against each other nonsensically: Sometimes the weather may be improving: in “It Has Stopped,” a man and a woman look out separate windows of a yellow house their scant clothing suggesting recent sex.

Untidiness results as well when an interruptive element in the form of an independent clause is inserted between two other independent clauses.

Here the second dash is both an interruptive-ender and a break between two antithetical independent clauses. The removal of the dashed-off phrasing results in two words—Holly and they—butting up against each other ungrammatically: They don’t label Holly they just want to be her.

In the next example, a dashed-off independent clause is preceded by an independent clause and followed by an adverbial phrase.

A dashed-off midsentence participial phrase can also spell trouble.

If the interrupter is excised, we’re left with Critics began to speak about the School of Gordon Lish probably most perceptively Sven Birkerts. . . .

A dashed-off appositive phrase directly followed by another appositive phrase can also confound a reader.

If the dashed-off appositive is removed, arrows butts up against insiders.

A sentence with a multitasking dash can sometimes leave a reader confused about which noun or nouns constitute the subject.

Short as the sentence is, it invites misunderstanding. Sensing that the first dash might be functioning as a comma as well, a reader may initially be tempted to attach the dashed-off phrasing and their words to bearing (and thereby construe as much as their more pronounced actions as an interruptive element); but then, jolted by the dissonance between what has seemed to be an additive-compound subject (bearing and words) and the singular verb (creates), she will then realize that she has misread the sentence: the subject is bearing, and the interruptive element is and their words.

With the dashed-off interruptive element removed, the sentence would be entirely readable (In broad terms “Room 237” is a nonfiction movie but it’s more of a personal essay than a traditional documentary, specifically in its truth claims), though a comma after movie would be the perfect little gift to a reader.

  ^^  85 

Parentheses signal to a reader that the phrasing they enclose is of secondary importance in a sentence. The only trouble they might cause a writer is the trouble of determining whether a punctuation mark should be inserted inside or outside the closing parenthesis. The rules, though, are uncomplicated.
     If an entire freestanding sentence is parenthesized between two other freestanding sentences (or at the end of a paragraph), the terminal punctuation mark of the parenthesized sentence is positioned inside, not outside, the closing parenthesis.

The parenthesized sentence must end like this: book.)

The parenthesized sentence must end like this: year.)
     When two or more consecutive freestanding sentences within a paragraph are parenthesized, no punctuation mark must follow the closing parenthesis.

The second of the two consecutive parenthesized sentences must end like this: previously?)
     When a parenthesized sentence-within-a-sentence is positioned at the end of a hosting sentence, the period follows the closing parenthesis.

The sentence must end like this: sentimental).

The sentence must end like this: treats). It’s also possible, though, that the writer intended the parenthesized sentence to be a stand-alone sentence. If so, a period must follow bagel, and the period in the parenthesized sentence must remain where it is. Either way, though, the comma before and must vanish.
     There are three other matters to bear in mind about parenthesizing entire sentences within hosting sentences: (1) the phrasing of a parenthesized sentence-within-a-sentence must never end with any punctuation mark unless the parenthesized sentence-within-a-sentence ends with an abbreviation (such as p.m.) that requires a period at its end or unless the parenthesized sentence is interrogative or exclamatory, in which case it requires a question mark or an exclamation point at its end; (2) the first word of the parenthesized sentence-within-a-sentence is capitalized only if it is a word that always requires capitalization; and (3) when a writer parenthesizes two consecutive sentences within a hosting sentence, the result is often unsightly, and the matter of when and when not to capitalize becomes a little more complicated, as the following excerpt illustrates.

Notice that in the parenthesized element, only the second of the two-in-a-row parenthesized sentences begins with an uppercased letter. Notice, too, that only the first of the two parenthesized sentences ends with a period.
     A long parenthesized element occasionally includes the equivalent of a sentence fragment followed by a complete sentence. Make sure that the period of the hosting sentence falls outside of the closing parenthesis.

The sentence must end like this: here). The two grammatically unequal constructions enclosed by the parentheses could be combined to form the equivalent of one complete sentence.

Four final guidelines about curvy punctuation:
     First, most parenthesized elements are not the equivalent of complete sentences.

A comma follows the closing parenthesis in that sentence, because if the parenthetical phrasing were omitted, a comma would need to follow job. But when the parenthesized element is added to the sentence right after job, the adverbial dependent clause (When her husband lost her job) and the parenthesized element now form a single, solid unit—and the comma must be positioned at its end. Even if the parenthesized element is the equivalent of a complete sentence, as in When her husband lost his job (this was an unexpected turn of events), he became a stay-at-home father, the comma still follows the closing parenthesis.
     Second, if a parenthesized element of any sort (a single word, a phrase, a dependent clause, or, as discussed earlier, an independent clause) has been included at the end of the hosting sentence, the period (or other terminal punctuation mark) must be positioned after the closing parenthesis.

The sentence must end like this: briefs).

The sentence must end like this: there).

The sentence must end like this: 1992).

The sentence must end like this: comfortable).
     Third, as with a parenthesized sentence-within-a-sentence, any other parenthesized phrasing must begin with a lowercased word unless the first word is a word always requiring capitalization.

The parenthesized element must begin like this: (gosh,    
     Finally, forget about inserting any punctuation mark before an opening parenthesis. The only exception is a sentence in which the items in a series are preceded by parenthesized numerals: The book is (1) brilliant, (2) brief, and (3) brave. (And in such a sentence, a blank space would separate each comma from each opening parenthesis.)

The comma after the d in“Parenthood” must disappear.

The comma after O’Hara needs to pass into oblivion.

The comma after counters must deliquesce.

The comma following the abbreviation Conn. and preceding the opening parenthesis has been mispositioned; the parenthesized dependent clause where she said she spent a lot of her professional hiatus gardening is modifying the place-name, and together the two form a unit. The comma, therefore, needs to be inserted at the end of the unit—after the closing parenthesis.

It would be in the reader’s best interest for the writer to remove the parentheses from around the sentence beginning with R.E.M. That sentence would then be out in the open, and the pronoun These at the start of the next sentence would have a strong antecedental foothold.

  ^^  86 

That intentionally inelegant title reminds us of a widely neglected use of the hyphen, the least understood of all the punctuation marks. We often write sentences in which two or more words team up to form a phrase that functions like a single-word adjective in front of a noun. In the sentence A twenty-year-old woman lives across the street, for instance, the phrase twenty-year-old serves much the same way as the adjective young does in the sentence A young woman lives across the street. Whenever an adjectival-compound phrase precedes a noun, the writer needs to stitch its words together with hyphens so that a reader instantly recognizes that the words constitute a single unit. It’s best, though, for a writer to keep her adjectival compounds fairly short—between, say, two words and five.
Following are thirteen rudiments of reader-friendly hyphenation. In the excerpts, the adjectival compounds requiring hyphenation (or, in rule 7, not requiring hyphenation) are boldfaced.

1. A NOUN+NOUN combination serving as an adjective and preceding a noun requires a hyphen. Thus the pattern is NOUN-NOUN NOUN.

The first rule also applies to a NOUN+GERUND combination preceding a noun.

2. An ADJECTIVE+NOUN combination serving as an adjective and preceding a noun requires a hyphen. Thus the pattern is ADJECTIVE-NOUN NOUN.

Think of hyphenation as one of many courtesies a writer can extend to her readers. In the following sentence, a hyphen between college (functioning adjectivally) and football will instantly clarify that the writer means all fans of college football and not just football fans who happen to be in college.

This second rule also applies to an ADJECTIVE+GERUND combination preceding a noun.

3. A NOUN+ADJECTIVE combination serving as an adjective and preceding a noun requires a hyphen. Thus the pattern is NOUN-ADJECTIVE NOUN.

4. A NOUN+PARTICIPLE combination serving as an adjective and preceding a noun requires a hyphen. Thus the pattern is NOUN-PARTICIPLE NOUN. (The participle can be either a present or a past participle.)

5. A PARTICIPLE+NOUN combination serving as an adjective and preceding a noun requires a hyphen. Thus the pattern is PARTICIPLE-NOUN NOUN. (The participle can be either a present or a past participle.)

6. Always insert a hyphen between the adverb well and a participle when the two words precede a noun. Thus the pattern is WELL-PARTICIPLE NOUN.

7. Do not insert a hyphen between an adverb ending in ly and an adjective when the two words precede a noun. (CAUTION: Although schoolchildren are often taught that an adverb is easily recognized by its ly ending, many adverbs do not end in ly. What complicates matters further is that some modifiers ending in ly are in fact adjectives. Among them are friendly, lovely, leisurely, scholarly, womanly, sisterly, matronly, queenly, homely, costly, masterly, deadly, lonely, sickly, and ghastly. When an adjective ending in ly is part of an adjectival compound preceding a noun, the compound must be hyphenated, as in a friendly-looking pit bull.)

8. Insert a hyphen between an adverb not ending in ly and an adjective or a participle when the two words precede a noun—unless the adverb is one of the following, with which a hyphen should not be used: almost, already, altogether, always, even, halfway, just, least, less, never, not, now, often, perhaps, pretty, quite, rather, really, somewhat, still, then, too, and very. Hyphens should be avoided, as well, when the following adverbial phrases precede an adjective or a participle before a noun: all too, as yet, by now, even more, ever more, far from, far more, good enough, less than, more or less, more than, much more, no longer, none too, not altogether, not too, not very, and not yet.

9. Often an adjectival-compound phrase modifying a noun consists of more than two words and therefore requires more than one hyphen.

A writer sometimes neglects to insert a hyphen between the first two words in an adjectival compound consisting of three or more words.

Similarly, a writer sometimes forgets to insert the final hyphen into a multiple-word adjectival compound.

A writer occasionally neglects to insert two or more hyphens into a longish adjectival compound.

A reader sometimes encounters a long adjectival compound that in fact needs to be divided into two distinct, independent hyphenated compounds separated by a comma, much as the independent or coordinate adjectives are separated in phrasing such as a rude, demanding customer (see Chapter 63).

Furthermore, some long hyphenated adjectival compounds might be displeasing to the eye; they can look cluttered. Ditching the hyphens and instead enclosing the adjectival compound between quotation marks is sometimes a better choice, or the sentence might be rephrased so that the unwieldy phrasing is no longer functioning adjectivally.

Challengeable: He greeted all of his customers with an I-only-work-here-so-keep-your-expectations-low attitude.

Easier on the eye: He greeted all of his customers with an “I only work here, so keep your expectations low” attitude. OR: He greeted all of his customers with an attitude of “I only work here, so keep your expectations low.”

Challengeable: Raw work, unfinished work, needs-some-fixing-but-we’re-not-sure-what-sort work is not only welcome but the very meat of the feast, and a staged reading with the actors in street clothes is as useful as a full-dress performance. (Wall Street Journal)

Easier on the eye: Raw work, unfinished work, work that “needs some fixing but we’re not sure what sort” is not only welcome. . . .

Challengeable: (And that’s not to mention a just-returning-to-the-workforce-after-maternity-leave mom like me.) (Time)

Easier on the eye: (And that’s not to mention a “just returning to the workforce after maternity leave” mom like me.) OR: (And that’s not to mention a mom just returning to the workforce after maternity leave, like me.)

10. A spelled-out multiword number is hyphen-free when it functions as an adjective preceding a noun (two hundred and thirty hours) or when it functions as a complement (The total is now exactly seven hundred and twenty), unless such a number includes a fraction, which requires a hyphen (We sat through six and one-third innings [EXCEPTION: She worked as a manager for five and a half years]), or unless the multiword number includes a number that always requires a hyphen (two hundred and thirty-three hours). But a spelled-out multiword number must be hyphenated when it unites with a noun to form an adjectival compound modifying another noun (a two-hour-and-fifteen-minute movie).

11. Use suspensive hyphens when two or more adjectival compounds preceding a noun have a second word in common—such as the word grade in the phrase fourth-, fifth-, and sixth-grade students. Suspensive hyphens enable you to avoid the unnecessary repetition of the second word. A blank space must follow a suspensive hyphen—unless a series includes two or more suspensive hyphens, in which case commas and blank spaces must follow the suspensive hyphens (as in first-, second-, and third-generation citizens).

12. Insert hyphens when you’re presenting measurements in phrasing that calls for the preposition by: Print out your final draft on 8½-by-11-inch paper. (There is no blank space before or after the hyphens.)

13. Insert hyphens in inclusive phrasing that uses the preposition to: She has a nine-to-five job. The program is aimed at a sixteen-to-thirty-year-old audience. These sorts of hyphens, which are used to indicate a range or a span (of time, of ages, etc.), are often confused with suspensive hyphens. Suspensive hyphens, however, appear in phrasing that includes the conjunction and (or occasionally or, as in five- or six-year-old students). (An obvious but rare exception is the suspensive hyphen in phrasing such as the mid- to late nineteen-sixties.) The sentence Eight- and eighteen-year-old students have completely different preoccupations concerns only two groups of students: those who are eight years old and those who are eighteen. The sentence The program appeals to eight-to-eighteen-year-old viewers, in contrast, encompasses all viewers between the ages of eight and eighteen (including nine-year-olds, ten-year-olds, and so on). There is no space before or after the hyphens in inclusive phrasing.

A gargantuan sentence will sometimes require a great many hyphens.

When one of a pair of dependent adjectives happens to be an adjectival compound, writers can get into further punctuational trouble. The sentence The band played an infectious power-pop song needs its hyphen between power and pop, because (1) power pop is the name of a musical subgenre and (2) the name of that musical subgenre is functioning as an adjectival compound in the sentence. But a comma between infectious and power-pop would be dead wrong. Similarly, the phrase hideous low-cut gown needs a hyphen but no comma. A phrase in which there are two dependent adjectival compounds, such as her neon-pink spaghetti-strap top, needs its two hyphens but must be comma-free.

What Gopnik means is that Liebling had a hard time adapting his wise-guy newspaper-feature style . . . to the pages of the magazine. That is, Liebling had been writing newspaper features of a wise-guy sort, with a wise-guy tone. In Gopnik’s sentence, wise-guy and newspaper feature function as adjectives, and both of them are adjectival compounds and need to be hyphenated before the noun style. It would be wrong, though, to separate the adjectives with a comma, because the two adjectives are not independently and individually modifying style; newspaper-feature is modifying style, and wise-guy is modifying the combined phrasing of newspaper-feature style. Wise-guy and newspaper-feature, in short, are dependent adjectives in the sentence. (A comma is needed, though, between the independent adjectives short and punchy.)

Suspensive hyphens are needed in pairs or series of compound nouns that share one or more words at their end.

  ^^  87 

What does the title of this chapter mean? We already have some precise explanations but need more? Or we need explanations that are more precise than the ones we already have?
     If the writer means the latter, she would be doing readers a favor by uniting the adverb more and the adjective precise with a hyphen to form an adjectival compound: We need more-precise explanations. (Or she could rephrase the sentence: We need explanations that are more precise.)
     The rules are simple enough. Hyphenate the combination of more and an adjective or a participle when you’re making a qualitative statement (She asked for more-persuasive evidence). Leave the combination unhyphenated when you’re making a quantitative statement (She asked for more persuasive evidence).
     Readers sometimes find themselves initially puzzled about whether more is intended to imply quantity or quality.

The writer’s sentence inadvertently (and self-contradictingly) states that in addition to the personal and sympathetic works about Salinger produced by Salerno and Shields, two more such works, by other writers, have now arrived. What the writer really means, though, is that the books by Beller and Rakoff are more personal and more sympathetic than the book and the film by Salerno and Shields. More, in this instance, is intended to emphasize quality, not quantity.

It may take some readers a second or two to realize that in the second sentence, the writer does not mean more stores that are affordable but instead means stores whose merchandise is more affordable, so inserting a hyphen between more and affordable would be a reader-friendly gesture.

The intended meaning of the third sentence has nothing to do with the number of permissive teachers; instead, the writer wants to emphasize that cellphone use is lower in classes instructed by teachers who are more permissive.

The writer intends the first independent clause to mean that in New York, there were fine-dining restaurants more luxurious than Corton. That is, the writer wants to emphasize quality, not quantity.

The context—an essay with the longish title “The Lessons of Zombie-Mania: From TV to CDC Brochures, the Living Dead Are Everywhere. What’s Behind This Apocalyptic Fixation?”—makes it clear that only the qualitative, not the quantitative, interpretation applies here; a hyphen is therefore needed between more and creative.
     Even more patience is expected of a reader wading her way into the following paragraph. The second sentence uses the adjectival more in a quantitative sense, and the third sentence uses the adverbial more twice in a qualitative sense—but without the writer’s having extended the courtesy of inserting hyphens where they would be helpful.

If we return the sentence excerpted above to its context (the second paragraph of an article), a reader is likely to conclude that the writer is emphasizing both quality and quantity:
[first paragraph] You undoubtedly know people so smitten with their smartphones and tablets that they experience separation anxiety when asked to put them away, even if it’s just long enough to get through dinner. But that is nothing compared with the angst they feel when their devices’ batteries are getting low. Think tremors and rending of garments.
[second paragraph] If you happen to be one of those people, you might consider joining a 12-step program—or maybe just buying a backup battery for recharging on the go. The market for these mobile power sources has grown exponentially in the last two years, with more compact and more powerful options available that allow you to recharge hundreds of times. Which one is best depends on how much power you want on hand and how much weight you are willing to carry.
     A revision, therefore, must emphasize the quantitative as well as the qualitative.

The context of the following sentence also suggests that the writer intended the phrases more personalized services and more relevant advertising to be understood in both a qualitative and a quantitative sense.

Sentences like the two above will not cause confusion about the distinction between the qualitative and the quantitative if both the writer and the reader understand that only the adjective fewer, and not less, can correctly be used to emphasize countable units (see Chapter 95).

  ^^  88 

There is no way you would ever write a sentence like that, instead of This is no way to get from here to there. Nor would you write Here’s a little something from me-you. So it’s time to stop writing sentences like the following.

Phrasing that specifies a span of time is not exempt from the requirement that the preposition from be balanced with the preposition to in any sort of phrasing about a span or a range or a crossover from one thing or person to another.
     Often, however, you can easily rewrite such sentences by discarding the preposition from and retaining the hyphen. (In the publishing world, an en dash—a punctuation mark longer than a hyphen but shorter than an em dash—would be used. An em dash is the sort of dash a writer produces with standard word-processing software. The dashes appearing throughout this book are em dashes.)

Similarly, much as you would never write This is between you-me, you can’t get away with sentences of the following sort.

  ^^  89 

One of the many peculiarities of the English language is a construction that grammarians refer to as the double possessive (or, more formally, the double genitive). We are apt to write a colleague of Sara’s, rather than a colleague of Sara, but we sometimes can’t help feeling a little funny about tacking on that apostrophe and the s. The prepositional phrase of Sara, after all, already seems to be doing the possessive-marking work. The double possessive, though, is both idiomatic and perfectly correct. We would never write No dog of Andrea is ever going to sleep outside instead of No dog of Andrea’s is ever going to sleep outside. (Nor would we ever write a neighbor of her instead of a neighbor of hers.)
     Complicating matters is the fact that, for nouns, the presence or the absence of the apostrophe and the s sometimes makes a big difference in meaning. It’s clear from the phrase a criticism of Heather that Heather is the object of criticism; the phrase a criticism of Heather’s, however, situates Heather as the person expressing the criticism. (The same is true of the distinction between a criticism of her and a criticism of hers.)
     Aside from instances in which the intended meaning dictates that the possessive form of the noun or pronoun not be used, though, a writer mindful of grammar ought to accept the double possessive as one of the cherishable eccentricities of our language.
     Inconsistencies, however, are common—even on two consecutive pages of a single book.

If there is a pattern to be discerned, it sometimes seems as if the more remote the relationship between the two persons included in the construction, the more reluctant a writer is to use the double possessive. A longtime fan of Michelle Williams doesn’t look the least bit odd, but a dear friend of Michelle Williams does. And, of course, those who contributed money to Bill Clinton’s campaigns were called friends of Bill, not friends of Bill’s.
     The following sentences, therefore, would benefit from an apostrophe and an s following mother, Adrian, Ross, Dupin, Martin, and Spiro, respectively.

One such musician was Alan Wilson, a roommate of Phil Spiro and a fellow blues fanatic. (Wall Street Journal)

  ^^  90 

We’re accustomed to seeing two consecutive punctuation marks whenever a sentence requires quotation marks, and everybody putting words together in the United States should know that commas and periods always slip themselves inside the closing quotation marks (“like this,” and “like so.”) and that semicolons and colons park themselves outside (“get out”; and “stay out”:).
     Once in a great while, though, a sentence can’t do without three punctuation marks in a row. Such a sentence typically (1) includes a title (such as that of a book, a movie, or a play) ending with a question mark or an exclamation point, (2) appears in a newspaper or a magazine that routinely encloses titles between quotation marks, and (3) either presents the title as a throwaway appositive or offers a throwaway appositive after the title (see Chapters 66-69). In a sentence of that sort, a writer committed to setting off the appositive with commas must punctuate the title by inserting a comma between the question mark or exclamation point and the closing quotation mark. It’s easy, though, for the writer to fumble the punctuation—either by omitting that crucial comma or by mispositioning it.

Similarly, when a title enclosed between quotation marks is positioned at the end of an introductory phrase or adverbial dependent clause, writers sometimes can’t bring themselves to furnish a comma to mark the boundary between the introductory element and the independent clause.

Punctuational threesomes make some writers so uncomfortable that they are reluctant to supply a comma in any other sentential position where it is needed to set off the end of a title, or else they erroneously insert the comma after the title’s closing quotation mark.

The punctuation of sentences of the sort discussed thus far is, of course, simpler and less cluttered when italics, rather than quotation marks, are used for titles of long, stand-alone works—such as movies, plays, books, and CDs. The italicizing of such titles, as well as of the names of magazines and newspapers, is standard in the book-publishing world. (See side note 2.)
     Sentences including titles that end in question marks and exclamation points aren’t the only sentences in which three-ply punctuation is inevitable. The positioning within a sentence of a direct quotation that ends with such a punctuation mark often dictates that there be three correctly situated marks in a row. If such a quotation is throwaway phrasing or appears at the end of throwaway phrasing (see Chapters 66-67 and 70-73), a comma must follow the question mark or exclamation point.

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