Emily Gordon writes:

And now, what you’ve all been waiting for: the top entries in our punctuation correspondence contest, which surpassed even our own usually fanciful expectations. Here are the Emdashes staff picks for the top entries in the contest. We tried to keep it to our top five, but we were unsuccessful.

Shortly after this is posted, Ben Greenman, whose book What He’s Poised to Do will be personally punctuated and signed for the contest winner, will make the final choice/s. (There may be a runner-up.) In the meantime, enjoy these winning (for they are all decidedly winning) letters to marks famous and internet-famous. And feel free to continue to submit entries for your own and our amusement!

EMILY’S PICKS:

1)
Dear Colon:

Did you like how I used a colon after your name? I did that on
purpose. I like you a lot. Do you like me? Please check yes or no

_ yes
_no

I need you to come to my house. Here’s why: my husband and I have a
nephew. His name is Colin. We love Colin very much but for some reason
whenever my husband writes his name, he write Colon. I’m not sure what
bothers me more: The misuse of your name or the incorrect spelling of
his sister’s child.

Between you and me, I know the difference. I also know about the whole
“body part” thing. I refuse to denigrate you by talking about that.

Just know this: every list I make, every point I make, I’m thinking of you.

Love:
Fadra

2)
Dear ~,

I am embarrassed to say that I have forgotten your name. You came into
my life one torrid night while talking to the abrupt, but helpful
customer service rep from Blue Host. I remember it clearly. I hope
this letter reaches you. Is it too forward to say how I love the way
you look after my name? Please write back. I am sending this out in a
bottle, posting it in the classified ads. We would could be so happy
together, crashing the shores of our meaning against each other,
forever. I know nothing about you, I don’t know what you do? Why do
you exist? I just want to know you.

Nicole ~

3)
Dear Ellipsis,

Quotation Marks told me the wonderful news - so happy to hear that
you’re pregnant again!

The last time we met, I could sense that you had something to share,
but you always seem more interested in batting your eyelashes
flirtatiously than talking!

It seems like, just recently, you had a child. And weren’t you
pregnant shortly before that? I would bend and break under the weight
that you carry.

But, don’t worry; it doesn’t show, dear, and you still wear that
polka-dot dress quite nicely.

How do you run the Sentence household with such grace? I never even
hear your babies cry! Could you share your secrets?

I’m writing not only to congratulate you but to ask - could I be the
father? I anxiously await your response.

Sincerely,

[Redacted]

—Laryssa

4)
Dear Apostrophe,

You are the ghost of a letter, hovering over the spot where it once
was. You are the ember of a letter, rising off of the site where it
was burned. You are also possessive, but I do not like thinking of you
that way.

You are not a sin of omission. You are a virtue, and a love of omission.

Love,
Lauren

5)
My En,

When I was a child, I couldn’t have dreamed of you.

I knew the hollowed-out twangy slap of the period hitting straight
down the line. I was learning to appreciate the smooth curve of commas
lapping against words. I could close my hand around both, then uncurl
my fingers to find sparkling against my skin the semicolon. I didn’t
see you, because I didn’t know you even existed to be seen.

When I was a child, I behaved like a child. But when I grew up, I put
away childish things. I fell in love with the em dash. I know you
don’t like to hear that, but of course it’s true. I was an adult, but
a new one. I drank wine only if it was golden or blushing, and sweet
as candy; I found myself in places that played jazz, but I recognized
the song only as “that one on The Cosby Show!”; I bought a belt and I
tucked in, but I didn’t have an iron.

That’s what we all did at that age! We owned real thoughts and things,
but we were still playing dress-up. Em dash was a part of that. Em
taught me that there was something bigger than the hyphen out there,
that the world didn’t have to stop with the period, pause only for the
semicolon. Em was sophisticated but palatable—yes, all right, the em
dash was easy.

But now, of course, mellowing into fuller adulthood, I understand you,
En, I want you. I know you. You reach out, striving always for another
part not of the world but of yourself, seeking, holding on. And that
is what I admire. You make me want to be a better me, because I see
you always trying to be a better, more complete, you.

EMILY’S HONORABLE MENTIONS:

LeolaAugust (semicolon)
Darcy (exclamation point)
Gertrude Strong (dingbat)
Lucy (pilcrow)
Richard Ihle (space)
Gene Weingarten (at-the-price-of)
Jerry (pound sign)
Ben Bass (curly quotes)
Allison (percent sign)
KB (manicule)
Angela (@)
Kellen (obelisk)
Laurence Hughes (period)
John S (numero)
Quinnie (ellipsis)
Alton (question mark)
eBeth (semicolon)
Chrissie (asterisk)

MARTIN’S PICKS:

1.
Dear Exclamation Point,
Some people have dyslexia? They don:t know which letters go where, I have dyspunctia] I am fine with letters but totally helpless when it comes to punctuation\Sometimes I get it right by accident.
I like you*exclamation point because you are so solid-You stand up for yourself; Sometimes people with a problem are afraid to ask for help^
Help!
Claire

2.
Dear Apostrophe,
You are the ghost of a letter, hovering over the spot where it once was. You are the ember of a letter, rising off of the site where it was burned. You are also possessive, but I do not like thinking of you that way.
You are not a sin of omission. You are a virtue, and a love of omission.
Love,
Lauren

3.
Dear Ellipsis,
As a young journalist trying to find my way around in the real world, I’ve had to write stories about (almost) everything under the sun to gain experience. I’ve interviewed farmers that grew a record-breaking sized pumpkin, adamant politicians and young teenagers who insert like in between every other word in a sentence (just to name a few).
Ellipsis, you are a lifesaver when it comes to making people sound more intelligent. You are loving and nonjudgmental when you take the quote “It was like, ohmigawd, an amazing experience!” and change it to “It was … an amazing experience!”
I will never underestimate your dot-dot-dot power because your ability to turn ramblings into short and concise sentences is a force to be reckoned with.
Perhaps one day you will reveal all that you’ve hidden. I do trust that you will wait until the time is right. Oh, Ellipsis, you must be incredibly wise with all that you know.
I am eternally grateful for you, Ellipsis. Please take good care of yourself.
Yours truly,
Jenny
P.S. Please send my regards to Square Brackets as well. Both you and Square Brackets make quite the team when it comes to journalism.

4.
Dear Air Quotes,
Not a day goes by that I don’t rely on your versatility and expressiveness. Without you I would have to find new words to help convey my cynicism. My sarcasm would be blunt, constant, and cruel. You have gotten me through many a business meeting while allowing me to keep a straight, respectable face, since I can make you under the table. I can use you on phone calls with abandon. You are my secret, constant, forever love.
Yours always,
L

5.
Ode to Nº
Quite plainly it just reads No.
The “o” is elevated so.
More popular some years ago,
An anachronistic symbol; whoa.
It precedes a number, though
Most use the sign of tic-tac-toe;
Sharp, as most musicians know;
Pounds, when après weight. Oh no!
A line of elegant script can flow
And writ sophisticatedly so
Before the blank to let one know
How many to the soirée go.
In Word to make the symbol show
One need not be a computer pro.
Hold down ALT, 2,1,1,6. Let go
And there you have a Numero.
JohnS

MARTIN’S HONORABLE MENTIONS:

Lara (Air Quotes)
Zach Fowle (Apostrophe)
KB (Manicule)
Amy (Exclamation Point)
Millicent (Apostrophe)
Kellen (Obelisk)
Kristen (Copyright symbol)
M-H (Hyphen)
Tina (Ampersand)
Jessmaya (Grawlix)
James (Caret)
Bruce Frankel (Virgule)
Lacey (Semi-Colon)

JONATHAN’S PICKS:

1.
Ode to Nº
Quite plainly it just reads No.
The “o” is elevated so.
More popular some years ago,
An anachronistic symbol; whoa.
It precedes a number, though
Most use the sign of tic-tac-toe;
Sharp, as most musicians know;
Pounds, when après weight. Oh no!
A line of elegant script can flow
And writ sophisticatedly so
Before the blank to let one know
How many to the soirée go.
In Word to make the symbol show
One need not be a computer pro.
Hold down ALT, 2,1,1,6. Let go
And there you have a Numero.
JohnS

2.
Dear Ampersand,
I guess they don’t need you in Spanish, do they?
Tina

3.Dear Virgule,
You are the slant line slicing, cutting, splicing, day/nighting us, ghost-busting foolishness, warning against parking at the edge of some precipice as blithe lovers sometimes do.
This is it, you say, hatcheting the complacent skull in two: “Decide! Decide! On which side of this, of me, are you?”
Sometime slung as hash or solidus, Søren Kierkegaard branded you. He took you even in the split-o of his name. Most of all, he knew how to leverage you, as in Either/Or, slashing the heart where the questions are.
You divide all our conversation into essential antinomies: Love/Hate. Life/Death. Being/Nothingness. Meanwhile you play dump truck and typographical terrorist, teetering my “Yes,” threatening to unleash a final “No.”
You/ me?
I guess I’m still attached,
Bruce

4.
Dear Quotation Mark.
Do you ever have any ideas of your own?
Disappointed,
Annie

5.
Dear
comma, the
maternity of
clause, and
conveying a
panache to
pause in
thrall, in
you the
wherewithal to
surcease of
lovers, a
hesitation and
hover, and
refrain in
singing, a
mark the
pendant of
clinging to,
arbiter to
instanter and
other, of
framing in
between the
lodgings, a
door, a
proclaiming to
adore, the
companion and,
inside in,
conductor of
love of
song, a
direction, in
you, to
descend and
belong, the
dismounting of apostrophe, to
commence a new, and
never in accommodating the.
(My letter is a sestina that employs the six most common English words.)
Alex

JONATHAN’S HONORABLE MENTIONS:

Jenny (ellipsis)
Lara (air quotes)
James (caret)
Eleaanor (‘)
Laurence H (period)
RL ($)
Mary (hyphen)
Tynic (period)
Nora O (pregnant comma)

POLLUX’S PICKS:

1.
Dear Manicule,
It’s Quick Tip. Behind you.
Hallo! Over here!
HEY, POINTY-HAND. WRONG WAY.
Never mind. Fine.
So what’s so all-important over there?
KB

2.
Dear Tilde,
I must admit that I have come to loathe seeing you. It’s not
frequently but yet enough to make my fingers stray far away from your
high and mighty position on the top-left part of my keyboard. You’re
at your worst on blogs, Facebook and Twitter. Why must people insist
to use you surrounding their thoughts? Like the phrase “going to the
beach” is somehow more magical with you surrounding it. Hhmm, maybe it
could be…
~ going to the beach ~
No, I stand my ground. Although I get distracted by your wavy
coolness, I utterly detest these shenanigans you participate in. Make
me proud and stand up for yourself next time.
Wishing you well,
SK
SKBJuly 23, 2010

3.
Dear interrobang,
I can only imagine the suffering in your heart as a cruel society
lives on largely in ignorance of your very existence.
And I can only imagine this suffering has grown tenfold since the rise
of netslang and tweet-sized righteous indignation has made your jaunty
combination of surprise and interrogation so painfully relevant.
“WTF?!” they cry, unaware that one piece of long-since discarded
punctuation could easily stand in place of the cumbersome two.
And “WTF‽” I cry too, every time someone sees me rocking my classy
interrobang t-shirt and asks what that symbol means.
Just know that I care.
Just know that I care.
WTF indeed, cruel world. WTF indeed.
Joe Boughner

4.
Dear Virgule,
You are the slant line slicing, cutting, splicing, day/nighting us,
ghost-busting foolishness, warning against parking at the edge of some
precipice as blithe lovers sometimes do.
This is it, you say, hatcheting the complacent skull in two: “Decide!
Decide! On which side of this, of me, are you?”
Sometime slung as hash or solidus, Søren Kierkegaard branded you. He
took you even in the split-o of his name. Most of all, he knew how to
leverage you, as in Either/Or, slashing the heart where the questions
are.
You divide all our conversation into essential antinomies: Love/Hate.
Life/Death. Being/Nothingness. Meanwhile you play dump truck and
typographical terrorist, teetering my “Yes,” threatening to unleash a
final “No.”
You/ me?
I guess I’m still attached,
Bruce

5.
Dear Quotation Mark.
Do you ever have any ideas of your own?
Disappointed,
Annie

POLLUX’S HONORABLE MENTIONS:

Antonia (equals sign)
Kristen (copyright symbol)
Frankie Drayus (Em Dash)
Angela T (< and >)