I have some exciting news!
Apparently.
I know it must be exciting because the person telling me has put an exclamation mark at the end of the sentence. Sometimes two!! Occasionally three!!!
By the time we get to four, I assume someone has either won the National Lottery or discovered a previously unknown continent.
The exclamation mark is a perfectly respectable piece of punctuation. It has served the English language faithfully for centuries. It can denote surprise, excitement, alarm, emphasis or a particularly vigorous instruction.
“Look out!”
Entirely reasonable. There is probably a bus approaching.
“Happy birthday!”
Fine. It is, after all, your birthday.
“Fire!”
Again, I’ll allow it.
But somewhere along the way, the exclamation mark escaped from its punctuation cupboard and began breeding.
It is now everywhere.
Thank you for your order!
Your parcel has been dispatched!
Your appointment is confirmed!
We have updated our privacy policy!
Steady on.
My parcel containing two printer cartridges leaving a warehouse in Milton Keynes is useful information. It is not the Second Coming.
Businesses are particularly guilty. Apparently, everything they do is now tremendously exciting. They are delighted to announce things. Thrilled to share things. Beyond excited to reveal that their website has a new button.
And every sentence must end accordingly!
Because otherwise we might not realise how exciting it all is!
There is also the slightly sinister exclamation mark.
“Your payment is overdue!”
That doesn’t make it friendlier. It makes it sound as though the accounts department has found my address and is presently gathering outside with flaming torches.
Then there is social media, where the poor thing has become almost meaningless.
“Had toast for breakfast!!!”
Good Lord. Sit down. Have a glass of water.
I blame, in part, our increasing terror of appearing unfriendly in written communication.
“Thanks.”
Too cold.
“Thanks!”
Ah. Lovely chap.
We have somehow reached the point where a full stop can look vaguely hostile. An exclamation mark reassures the recipient that we are smiling while typing.
I’m guilty of it myself.
There. I said it.
Sometimes I type an email, read it back and realise I have scattered exclamation marks across it like confetti. So I go through and remove most of them.
This is the important bit. An exclamation mark works because it is unusual. It tells the reader that this particular sentence deserves a little extra oomph.
If every sentence has extra oomph, none of them does.
It is the punctuation equivalent of someone shouting continuously during dinner. Eventually you stop listening and concentrate on the potatoes.
So I propose restraint.
One exclamation mark when circumstances genuinely warrant it. Two only if a rhinoceros has just entered the kitchen. Three if it is wearing your dressing gown.
Anything beyond that and you should probably stop typing and telephone the emergency services.
Immediately!
