When less is more: Using caesurae to make room for the reader

Although music is made possible through sound, it is the measure and form of these sounds that give music shape. Think of a song without rests or variations in duration. Think of a poem in which every word has the same weight. Think of a book where every paragraph is the same length and every sentence follows the same structure. With every item equally matched in the competition for your attention, you will either be underwhelmed or overwhelmed, neither of which bodes well.
Most writers are already aware of this to some degree, whether they are consciously doling out punctuation or letting it occur organically. Yes, punctuation is an integral yet silent part of communication. However, I want to explore the ways purposeful pauses can transform your writing.
Heads-up: I’ll be playing fast and loose with the concept of caesurae here. In poetry, caesura (pl. caesurae) refers to the space within a line where the text is cut or paused. This can be achieved through punctuation or through simply leaving a blank space between phrases. The significance of this, at least in poetry, is that the author has chosen to make a purposeful pause without ending the line entirely.
I first encountered this concept during a poetry course. As an editor of creative nonfiction, I proceeded to take this concept with me to work. Like appreciating a painting for it’s negative space, I began to observe how prose writers were using caesurae to accentuate their message.
Here are some common methods I’ve observed.
Using caesura to modify tone
This is a fairly simple concept—you do it each time you decide whether to end a sentence or prolong it with a comma, colon, semicolon, or dash. But how does this affect tone? To demonstrate this, I have gathered a couple passages that are similar in subject matter but model significantly different approaches to sentence structure. (Please note, I have done my best to grab passages that contain no recognizable plot points.)
Example 1
The first passage comes from Cormac McCarthy’s The Road, which features several departures from conventional punctuation. Most notably, McCarthy has chosen not to use quotation marks to set of dialog. In this passage, we see how this has led to a simplistic yet raw style of conversation.
Are we still the good guys? he said.
Yes. We’re still the good guys.
And we always will be.
Yes. We always will be.
Okay. (77)
Clocking in at 25 words, McCarthy doesn’t mince words. Each thought is fully developed. There isn’t room for interruption. “And we always will be.” isn’t even posed as a question. This conversation isn’t about letting the characters explore their morality in the wake of what they’ve experienced. Both characters have already accepted their role within this scene in a process that we as readers were not privy to. There are no commas to connect each “Yes” to the following justification; these aren’t statements of affirmation and encouragement, they are of confirmation and acceptance.
Example 2
Now let’s take a look at another character’s moment of doubt. This passage comes from RF Kuang’s recent novel Babel. Unlike McCarthy’s meat-and-potatoes style of writing, Kuang’s prose seems to dance. Each line swells, overflowing into the next.
There was some logic in this, but the conclusion still made Robin uncomfortable. Surely things were not so simple; surely this still masked some unfair coercion or exploitation. But he could not formulate an objection, could not figure out where the fault in the argument lay. (117)
Where the thoughts and actions of McCarthy’s characters appear stark and wholly formed, Kuang’s characters are developing in real time right on the page. McCarthy’s passage builds emotion through terse dialog. In contrast, Kuang’s style is engineered so that the reader must wait in suspense while Robin considers every detail systematically until he can reach his ultimate decision. For every pro there is a con. Each sentence is a scale and every comma and semicolon is a fulcrum.
Find what fits your scene
Like holding your thumb over the nozzle of a garden hose, each punctuation mark exerts a unique level of pressure on your writing. Where Kuang’s commas and semicolons leave room for sprawling reflection, McCarthy’s microscopic sentences are like gunfire—a swift crack bracketed with silence. This effect is further heightened in the print edition of The Road, in which this passage is followed by a line of blank space, leaving the reader to fester in the aftermath of this heavy conversation. That form of caesura, a clean line between one section and the next, can become something akin to a fire hose if the payoff is good enough, which leads me to my next point…
Using caesura to say what you can’t
Among horror fans, there is a common understanding that the monster is scarier when it is ambiguous. The longer you go without showing the monster, the scarier it becomes. This is because the audience has the freedom to insert their own imagination into the scene. Their minds will come up with something tailored to their expectations. These constructs function best when they’re felt but not bound to the limitations of the written word.
So, what does this look like for writers of other genres?
Example 3
In his book Draft No. 4, author John McPhee offers a treasure trove of insights and processes he has developed over the course of his extensive writing career. I was particularly drawn to his writing process for a previous book, Encounters with the Archdruid, which chronicled his interactions with environmentalist David Brower. Observe how the section break acts not only as a transition, but as a clearly defined space for the reader to draw their own conclusions. (Please note, I have significantly shortened this passage for the purpose of this post. I highly recommend reading McPhee’s own assessment.)
Dominy said, “Dave why didn’t you ride through the rapid?”
Brower said, “Because I’m Chicken.”A Climbers Guide to the High Sierra (Sierra Club 1954) lists thirty-three peaks in the Sierra Nevada that were first ascended by David Brower. (232)
In Draft No. 4, McPhee explains that he had so much he wanted to say about Brower. He had traveled from the North Cascades of Washington to the Georgia islands to the Grand Canyon’s Upset Rapid in order to see Brower through the eyes of his peers and, in turn, see the world through the eyes of Brower himself. Rather than stumble over himself, he elected instead to set the reader up to be underwhelmed… only to blow them away with Brower’s accomplishments.
It will only take a fraction of a second for a reader to process this section break and move on, yet the implications of this pause will simmer the entire time they are orienting themselves in the next passage. That strip of white space may have started as a grammatical necessity to divide two separate passages, but you as the writer have the power to add as much abstract value as you want. You just have to find the appropriate juxtaposition to make the reader look at that space and see its meaning.
Tying it all together
The best part about these examples is that you can use any combination of these styles within the same manuscript. There are times for terse and/or declarative statements just as there is time for deeper conflict or reflection. The key is understanding your message before you start experimenting with punctuation. You can kill a good line with the wrong ending. What if McCarthy had softened the blow with commas? Would this conversation have felt as significant? What if Kuang had sharpened Robin’s thoughts with full stops? At that stage in the story, his perception of the world is in flux. I don’t think he was confident enough in that moment to have been so firm in his opinion. And what if McCarthy had put the duality of David Brower, master rope-and-piton climber and failed whitewater rafter, into words? Would readers appreciate the wit of Brower’s “Because I’m a chicken” or taken it at face value? Would readers pick up on the depth of McPhee’s respect for Brower’s accomplishments? Would either of these scenes have been memorable at all?
It can be overwhelming to think about every single punctuation you’ve used within the last several drafts (and I certainly don’t expect you to). Not every comma or period needs to carry the full weight of your message. But when you find the passage that matters, make every scrap of it work toward your purpose. From basic parts of speech to the most elegant of dashes, be sure to wield your words with excellence.
Further reading
For examples of traditional poetic caesura, I recommend this Masterclass article as a starting point. If you are interested in studying directly from the source, you can also find prominent uses of the various forms of caesura in most poetry collections, whether it is metered or free verse. Vanessa Angélica Villareal’s poetry collection Beast Meridian is a personal favorite.
For other examples of stylistic punctuation, Writing Excuses discusses this and musicality in episodes “16:30: First Page Fundamentals—THE HAUNTING OF HILLHOUSE” and “16.32 First Page Fundamentals—THE KILLING FLOOR, by Lee Childs.”