I end too many sentences with exclamation marks. I’m aware of this personal flaw, yet I can’t seem to stop myself from doing it.

I know it’s overdone. I know it’s inaccurate. I know Strunk and White would table-top me if they could. And yet, I do it anyway.

Why? Because I don’t want people to think I’m upset.

Perhaps I should specify. My exclamation marks appear almost exclusively in my digital communication. I’m better at excluding them from my prose, mostly because I’m afraid grammarians on Goodreads will slap me with one-star reviews. Yet texts and emails remain breeding grounds for my exclamations.

To prove this observation, I reviewed yesterday’s sent emails from my work address. Ten of my previous 10 messages contained exclamation marks. Worse yet, now that I’ve established this pattern at work, I can’t relent.

For the sake of demonstration, let’s imagine we’re coworkers. Greetings, coworker. Now let’s pretend you’ve requested help from me, and I reply thusly:

All set!

Oh that Kyle, you must be thinking, shaking your head and smiling to yourself. What a chipper fellow.

Try receiving this reply instead:

All set.

Oh no, you’d think to yourself. Is Kyle mad at me? Is everything okay? Did his cat die?

Don’t worry, both cats are very much alive. One of them just puked on the rug. But here you’ve spotted my dilemma: I’ve worked at Special Olympics New York for five years now, and over that time, I’d estimate 96.56% of my emails used an exclamation mark. When you write almost as many exclamations as periods, you’ve got a problem.

And it’s not just me. A few years back, our organization recruited a writing consultant to help improve our written communication. My wife Sara also works at Special Olympics NY, and she was among the select few invited to the seminar. Here’s what she says the consultant said:

“I’ve never encountered an organization that writes with as many exclamation marks as yours!”

His statement probably ended in a period, but I wanted to reinforce his point.

But here’s my rebuttal, writing consultant guy: Periods make texts and emails sound terse. I know they’re grammatically correct. I know they’re proper. Yet when communicating digitally, I can’t ignore the finality of that single dot. Consider this text message:

Okay.

This is how my parents text, and they’re right to do so. The vast majority of sentences should end in periods. But this sentence sounds aggressive, even though I know my parents aren’t aggressive (unless my dad’s talking to the cable company). If that example doesn’t convince you, try this one:

See you soon.

Without an exclamation mark, this sounds like a threat. In my more paranoid moments, I might even receive this text and think, Oh shit! Am I about to be assassinated!?

See? I even think in exclamation marks.

My problem is one of consistency. I’ve often daydreamed about converting to the period, about dropping all my overused exclamation marks from my texts, emails, and thoughts, becoming the diligent grammarian I know I should be. Yet I can’t. Because if I do, people will fear something’s wrong.

What’s with all the sudden periods? they’ll think as they read my emails. Is Kyle going to assassinate me?

The answer is, of course, no (unless you’re an Eagles fan, in which case, maybe). But who would know that by reading an email dominated by periods? I pretty much only use them when I’m annoyed with people and I assume they know I’m annoyed with them. No exclamation marks for you, I think as I pound the period key. Every sentence you get ends in a black hole.

I could add an addendum to my email signature explaining my change, e.g. I’ve realized I overuse exclamation marks in my emails, so you may notice their absence in future messages. This does not reflect my general mood or feelings toward you, unless it does, in which case, you know who you are. But that would make me seem like even more of a psycho than I already am.

Yet still, I’m not alone. Exclamation overuse isn’t just localized to my organization—it’s generational. As a Millennial, ours was the first generation to grow up with text messaging. Without the in-person benefits of tone, expression, and posture, our early text messaging relied on nonsense like colons combined with right-half parentheticals. Or, better yet, exclamation marks. Emojis came later, but even they haven’t killed the vertical-line-and-dot.

Perhaps this suggests that we Millennials are an empathetic generation. We want to assure our recipients that we’re not angry with them, so much so that we end most sentences with an additional press of the “Shift” key. Or, perhaps we’re all part of the problem. I couldn’t say.

But here’s what I could do: I could end this confessional with a vow to write fewer exclamation marks. I know I won’t. Instead, later today, as I sit down at my desk and browse my emails, I’ll reply with the same platitudes I always use. Sounds good! Copy that! Thanks so much! And I’ll think to myself, Well, at least you’re certain I’m not mad at you!


Kyle A. Massa is a comedy author of some sort living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife, their daughter, and three wild animals. His published works include five books, along with several short stories, essays, and poems. When he’s not writing, he enjoys reading, running, and drinking cheap coffee.