Dashing Through the Sentence: In Praise of the Em Dash
How a punctuation mark caught in the AI crossfire still packs a literary punch.
There’s a whisper running through the writing world right now, like a rumor in the library stacks. It’s not about plot structure or pacing. It’s about punctuation.
Specifically: the em dash.
That long, luxurious line—equal parts breath and blade—is suddenly suspect. Not because of grammar purists or cranky editors, but because of… AI.
AI uses em dashes a lot. So now, some writers are quietly purging them from their work, terrified of being accused of letting the robots write their sentences.
And others? Well…
“They’ll take my em dashes from my cold, dead hands.”
That was a real quote from a real writer. And honestly? Respect.
Because here’s the thing: fearing a tool doesn’t make you a better craftsman. Knowing how and when to use that tool does. AI is here to stay. Instead of flinching every time someone raises an eyebrow at your punctuation, stand tall. Act, don’t react. Write like you mean it.
And that means using the em dash when it serves the sentence.
What Is an Em Dash, and When Should You Use One?
The em dash (—) is the Beyoncé of punctuation. It doesn’t ask for attention—it commands it. It’s longer than a hyphen (-) and wider than an en dash (–), and unlike commas or parentheses, it brings a whole different vibe.
Think of the em dash as:
A pause that carries weight.
A spotlight that shines a beat longer.
A bridge between what you meant to say and what you really want to say.
It’s not neutral. It’s theatrical.
Use it when:
You want to interrupt yourself—but still keep going.
“I planned to leave by noon—but the past, as always, had other plans.”
It adds tension. Movement. You’re not just pausing—you’re redirecting the energy mid-thought.
You’re inserting a related idea that isn’t quite parenthetical.
“She said she’d call—which, in her language, meant never.”
A parenthesis here would be too soft, too round. The em dash says: this matters.
You want a sentence to land with a punch.
“He didn’t just lie—he rehearsed.”
Em dashes let the second half of the sentence hit harder. It’s a one-two combo: setup, strike.
Your tone or your character’s voice needs breathing room.
“I’m fine—really—I just need to sit down for a minute.”
Multiple dashes mimic natural, stammered speech. It’s the literary equivalent of catching your breath—or holding it.
Let’s compare:
“I thought I’d left the past behind—but the past wasn’t done with me.”
vs.
“I thought I’d left the past behind. The past wasn’t done with me.”
vs.
“I thought I’d left the past behind, but the past wasn’t done with me.”
The em dash version drips with tension. The period sounds like a voiceover on a Netflix true crime doc. The comma? It’s fine—but a little flat.
When Should You Let Them Walk On By and Use a Comma Instead?
If the em dash is a shot of espresso, the comma is your morning drip. Familiar. Steady. Trustworthy.
Sometimes, too much caffeine just makes your writing jittery.
Skip the em dash when:
Your tone is soft, neutral, or understated.
The sentence doesn’t need added rhythm or drama.
The pause is brief enough to let a comma do the job.
Too many dashes:
“She turned the corner—and paused—and gasped—and dropped the tray.”
With restraint:
“She turned the corner, paused, and dropped the tray.”
Unless your point is breathlessness or intensity, choose the calmer option. Let the dash be the exception, not the wallpaper.
Clean Writing, Not Clean Conscience
If you’re avoiding em dashes because someone might accuse you of being “AI-generated,” I have one kind thing to say: stop it. Please. Right now. Your writing doesn’t prove its humanity by being afraid. It needs to show it by being good—rhythmic, expressive, intentional.
Use every tool in your kit—including the em dash. Just use it well. Know why you're pausing. Know what you're emphasizing. Write like yourself. That’s the only thing AI will never be able to steal.
And if someone wants to accuse you of being machine-made because your sentences breathe with rhythm and tension? Let them take that trash out with the rest of the recycling.
Do you love the em dash? Hate it? Fear it? Drop a comment and let me know—unless you’re a semicolon stan, in which case I’ll need emotional support before continuing.
