Breaking Punctuation Rules

Recently, in a meeting with my critique group, I criticized an author for using too many em-dashes (—) in a manuscript. This author then acquainted me with an interesting online disagreement.

First, author Kate Dyer-Seeley posted a well-worded defense of the Oxford Comma. I, too, am a fan of inserting a comma after the penultimate item in a list before the ‘and.’

Then, author Kristine Kathryn Rusch (who had once been Dyer-Seely’s instructor) countered with a post of her own. Her objection didn’t concern the Oxford Comma, but rather Dyer-Seely’s willingness to add or delete commas from her manuscripts based on an editor’s suggestions.

For Rusch, punctuation is a tool employed in the service of the story, and useful for conveying an author’s voice. Therefore, if you beak a punctuation rule and an editor suggests a revision, you should be able to defend your punctuation choices.

Who’s right?

Here’s a list of ten famous authors who violated, even spat on, punctuation rules without any harm to their reputation. They would side with Rusch.

To be fair, I’ve over-simplified Rusch’s position. She did say a writer must first learn the rules of punctuation before breaking them. We’ve heard that confusing advice before—learn the rules before you break them. Huh?

Here’s the catch, though. If you’re an editor (or a fellow writer doing a critique), it can be difficult to distinguish whether the writer’s flouting of the rules is part of the writer’s style and is meant to serve the story, or if the writer broke the rules out of haste, laziness, poor self-editing, etc.

If you’re a beginning writer still struggling to find your voice, the recommendations of an editor can seem like a burning-bush pronouncement, complete with stone tablets. It can be intimidating to fight back and defend every punctuation violation, as Rusch advocates.

Until recently, I’d never understood the editorial side of the business, but as a first-time co-editor of an upcoming anthology, I’m beginning to appreciate it. Any submitted manuscript does provide certain clues about why a writer broke a rule.

For instance, are there other mistakes? Are there misspellings and grammatical errors that fling a reader out of the story? If so, chances are the writer lacks a defendable rationale for breaking punctuation rules.

On the other hand, as an editor, did you breeze through the story, caught up in the writer’s world, and only notice punctuation violations upon re-reading? If so, you know this author has an established voice, a solid command of when to break rules. Edit such a story with a light touch.

Rusch’s position is a strong one, and it should be the goal of every fiction writer. Convey your story using your voice. If that means breaking some rules, do so, and stand ready to defend your choices.

Not apologizing for this final em-dash, I’m—

Poseidon’s Scribe

A Writing Fool and his Money

After eleven entries about my cruise to Alaska, I’m returning this blog to topics dealing with the writing scene. Authors often debate the pros and cons of retaining a literary agent. You can add one item to the con list—your agent’s bookkeeper might be embezzling your earnings.

According to a New York Post report, the bookkeeper for a top literary agency has admitted to a charge of wire fraud. The agency alleges the bookkeeper stole at least $3.4M, leaving the company on the verge of bankruptcy. Forensic auditors are combing the agency’s books back to 2001, so that figure could go much higher.

Donadio & Olson is a prestigious company based in New York, boasting an impressive list of clients, including Chuck Palahnuik and McKay Jenkins, and the estates of Mario Puzo, Studs Terkel, and Peter Matthiessen.

How could such a thing happen? Writer and editor Kristine Kathryn Rusch has a theory, and I suspect she’s right, though I respectfully disagree with some of her remedies.

Ms. Rusch’s blogpost paints a picture of authors who loved to write, and didn’t really care to mess with figures having dollar signs, so they outsourced that job to a literary agent. When some of those authors died, their heirs didn’t want to know details either, and outsourced the financial and contractual stuff to the agent. Workers within the agency, likewise, may not have relished the numerical, pecuniary part of their job, so they contracted that to a bookkeeper.

Then nobody checked up. The authors and heirs trusted the agent; the agent trusted the bookkeeper. Millions of dollars passed through this bookkeeper’s hands, and nobody asked him if he was putting every dollar into the right account. Temptation may have overcome honesty, and years passed.

Then somebody checked up. One author, represented by D&O, asked about a $200,000 advance payment the author expected to receive from a publisher. When the bookkeeper kept putting the author off, the author persisted, then asked several people at D&O. The house of cards began to collapse.

I don’t know if this is what really happened, but it is believable, given the attitudes some authors have about money. If this scenario is true, what lessons should writers draw from this misfortune?

Ms. Rusch’s advice is clear: (1) sever your relationship with your agent and never hire one, and (2) learn the financial and contractual end of the writing business and do it yourself.

While acknowledging her greater knowledge in this area, I believe Ms. Rusch’s recommendations go too far. They strike me as disparaging an entire group of professionals for the actions of a few.

I’d summarize my suggestions as follows: (1) hire an agent if you believe you must, and (2) learn enough of the financial and contracting biz to ask hard questions. More simply: trust, but verify.

If you’re the type of starry-eyed writer who wishes only to frolic in the forest of words, leaving those dreary accounting matters to your (oh, so friendly) agent, be warned: there are wolves in those woods. These wolves smile nicely and talk sweetly, but prey on your intentional ignorance of money.

Remember how the D&O bookkeeper scam got discovered? Out of all their clients, just one persistent author cared enough to check up, to ask the hard questions. That author may have trusted, but went on to verify.

Don’t be the writing fool who’s soon parted from his, or her, money. That’s the advice about agents, and money, from—

Poseidon’s Scribe