My writing style has an affliction I refer to as comma-itis. Around and through my sentences and paragraphs are an abundance of commas. I tend to place some of them correctly, where they are, in fact, needed, but in my fondness for the little curly-cues, I sprinkle them about like too much salt on a slice of meat. 

Writing aside, each of us has our own idiosyncratic speech patterns; favourite words, turns of phrase, and limits to our vocabulary. My sister tells me that when she reads these posts she can hear my voice. For the purpose of this blog that may be flattering, but writing fiction requires a voice that is not mine. What makes it a challenge is these habits are innate. I don’t recognize them on the page until someone else points them out.

We all have our own personal vernacular. I have a friend who says, “Can I tell you something?” when he wants to give his opinion. Another friends says, “Here’s the deal…” and I know she’s either relating an assertion or she’s being assertive with me. When my mother said no, and meant no, she would say, “Nothing doing”; don’t bother wheedling, permission would not be granted.

These habits are embedded in who we are, how we present ourselves to the world. Most of us can identify our frequently used favourites, but I’m guessing we each have quirks in our speech we don’t hear. It’s similar to a poker tell; that tic or small gesture that telegraphs a good hand or a bluff, the player with the tell doesn’t realize it.

Just for fun, ask your significant other, your closest friend, or better yet, your children to identify some of your habits of expression. Bet you’ll be surprised.

Improving my comma-itis was as simple as re-reading Eats, Shoots & Leaves. Exorcising my favourite words or altering my syntax to give a different-than-me flavour to a fictional character is trickier. I’m working on it.

Keep your joy.

Anne Milne is an every Sunday blogger, unless it’s a holiday weekend. Or summertime. Facebook or email.