Local Author Plagued by the Tyranny of Oxford Comma

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Buffalo, NY—Local author P.A. Kane has been plagued by the tyranny of the Oxford comma and other grammar-related rules prescribed by the Chicago Manual of Style in preparation for the release of his new novel, Larry Plumb Is Still Here. The manual of style provides guidelines and standards for English language usage, but Kane, a self-taught writer who likens himself to an improvisational jazz musician feels constrained by the repressive rules. “I don’t need no Oxford comma to introduce or link independent clauses. Fuck that. It changes my voice, slows the pacing, and worst of all—it makes me like everyone else,” he said.

As the 1.5 millionth-ranked most popular Amazon author, Kane talks a big game and fashions himself as an anarchist badass. But lately, when he lies down to sleep at 9pm, his dreams are filled with aggressive red marks on a manuscript, flagging dangling modifiers, tense and punctuation errors, and missing Oxford commas. “These invasions are almost as bad as the recurring dream I had all through high school where girls I was crushing on would see my naked body and penis—and just laugh and laugh and laugh,” he said.

Suffering from extreme sleep deprivation, Kane saw no other option than to temporarily conform to the conventions prescribed by the manual of style. He has begun inserting countless Oxford commas, and has stepped up his hyphen game, which the local author thinks demeans the reader’s intelligence. “Trust me,” he said, “the reader knows small-business-owner and small business owner is the same schmoe who owns a small business with or without the hyphens.” These changes have translated into more rest for the author, despite the recurring decades-long dream of his wife looking at his naked body and penis—and just laughing and laughing.

He also complained about established writers like Amor Towles and Jennifer Eagan, who are afforded great latitude with the language and suffer zero consequences. Kane vowed that once he had a big breakthrough work, he would be insufferable. Smiling, he said, “The day will come when those chardonnay-drinking douche nozzles at the New Yorker will vomit up superlatives about my paradigm-shifting prose, and I’ll be a total asshole to all of them. Instead, of answering any of their questions, I’ll do the Trump weave and talk about—alligators, mukluks, and the greatness of Todd Rundgren. At literary events celebrating my work, I’ll have riders for brown M&M’s and Jim Beam chilled exactly to thirty-four degrees. Of course, if anyone dares to look me in the eye, I’ll blow them up. In a word, it will be—glorious.”

But until that time, you’ll have to endure Kane’s velvety adherence to the Chicago Manual of Style and endless Oxford commas and hyphens. For all practical purposes, that means Larry Plumb Is Still Here, due November 2024, will still be a great American novel but not likely to find its way into one of those time capsules that the Smithsonian shoots into space.   

The author apologizes in advance for this inconvenience.