Later-Comma

In the course of my reading of contemporary fiction I have developed a wonderful little hobby: the collecting of later-commas. The later-comma, in case you don't know, is that ingenious literary device used by popular writers in place of the more descriptive passages that might get a novel banned in Boston. The character's (usually two: one male, one female) become involved in an extremely compromising situation and then, instead of the juicy paragraphs the reader is anticipating, the author slips in a later-comma.

Speculating on just what has transpired in the space of time not described can be a truly fascinating pastime. For example, here are a few later-commas taken from actually published novels and short stories; the added speculations are mine. After you've looked these over, you can go in search of examples of your own (historical novels are suggested as a particularly good source). You and your friends can spend many fun-filled hours deciphering the later-commas you turn up.

Example 1.

Later, lying on his bed in his maroon robe, smoking, with Cynthia's head on his shoulder, Owen felt a magnificent cloak of ease and fulfillment about him.

Some time -- how much or how little we can't tell -- has elapsed before this scene takes place. What happened during the interim? Be assured this was not revealed in the preceding paragraph. In the construction of all later-commas, what actually happened is never stated but is left to the reader's imagination. In this example, it is clear that Owen has stuck a lighted pipe into the pocket of his maroon robe. He has two heads on his shoulders -- his own and Cynthia's. He is tired after the long trip from Denmark and his mother has just tippy-toed in and covered him with a cowskin rug. Let's try another:

Example 2.

Later, lying on his elbow at her side, he whispered, "You are lit up -- like a Christmas tree! In twenty-five years there never was any woman but you."

There is no mystery here. These two are completely ossified and have crashed into a juke box while roller skating. In his drunken condition, he is actually addressing the juke box.

Example 3.

Later, he reached over and snapped on the lamp on the bedside table. He rubbed his nose gently across her forehead, down the edge of her face, along her neck and kissed her bosom.

What happened: He fumbled in the dark for a handkerchief and couldn't find one handy even after turning on the light.

Example 4.

Later, she still clung to him, breathless, her head drooping against his shoulder. She could hear the pounding of his heart, so near, so dear.

What happened: They have just had (continued on page 45) Comma (continued from page 33) a fight and she knifed him, ripping a sizeable hole in his chest and exposing his vitals. Now she's sorry.

Example 5. (A subtle type.)

"Do you know," he said later, lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling, "that you're absolutely terrific in bed?"

Big talk to save face. There is a bedbug on the ceiling. He has been chasing it around the room.

Example 6. (Afterward-comma -- a rare type.)

Afterward, Bud lay watching her while she dressed, fascinated by the clothes she put on, and feeling in every muscle and at the same time both rested and weary, feeling inside both full and empty, both whole and shattered, both solid and fluid.

Admittedly, the construction here is tricky, but a little imagination will permit us to come up with a satisfactory explanation. Obviously, Bud is suffering from extreme vertigo and a state of nausea comparable only to that felt by the reader at this moment. Bud is a circus aerialist who spins, suspended by a rubber grip which he holds with his teeth, while sliding down a wire stretched from the top of the tent. Simultaneously, he gulps a glass of milk and eats a tuna fish sandwich, held in either hand. On this occasion, although suffering from intestinal influenza, he felt the show must go on, and as luck would have it the ground end of the wire broke loose midway in his descent and he shot out into the center ring, jostling a nervous elephant that was balanced on a barrel. Now he is watching his wife, a bareback rider, prepare herself for the grand finale.

Composing later-commas is also a lot of fun on rainy days. They are far easier to writethan they are to read. It takes only a little practice and even less experience and the rewards are really something. Here are a few originals that came out of my typewriter -- zip, zip, zip! Analyze these and you will be ready to write your own. Watch yourself, though. A couple of these are sticklers.

Original Example 1.

Later, he put on his hat and walked down the street, cane in hand. "Good morning, Mrs. Shultz," he greeted a neighbor. "Have you heard about my good fortune?"

Original Example 2.

"Darling, it's later," she whispered, "than you think."

Original Example 3.

Later, Fred got up and opened the window. Later, Fred got up and closed the window. Later, but not much later, Fred got up and opened the door. Later, much later, Fred got up and closed the door. Still later, Fred turned on the light and looked at his watch. "Well," he said, "I'm going to sleep before it gets any later."

This last is a little tiresome, but I do not pretend to be an expert in this form.

I have many other interesting examples of the later-comma construction, but these will serve as a starter for those who want to begin collections of their own. Sometimes later-commas seem hard to find, but once you get accustomed to spotting them they pop out at you like four-leaf clovers in a field of corn. Often they appear in various disguises -- in the swifter narratives, dashes are found.

Some few writers do not use the later-comma in any form. They try to tell what happens every second of the time in their novels. The produce thousand-page volumes that cover a time-span of only a few minutes. But such books don't sell well and you hear very little about them.

As a scout for the avant-garde, I can tell you that the real trend is to leave everything to the imagination. I have not written several novels, as well as works of a scientific and philosophical nature, in this new experimental mood. These have been well-received by critics who agree that the best books have not been written.

The day may come when later-commas have disappeared from the printed page and everybody will have to write his own. Whether or not this would be a good thing, that day is, I believe, distant. It is a foolish author who chooses to leave nothing to the reader's imagination.