Like a few others in the JAMA Network office, my other life has involved creative writing. Although you’d have to look one cubicle past mine to find someone with a Master of Fine Arts in the subject, I managed to walk fairly deep into creative nonfiction—enough to have published a bunch of essays, in fact.

My other other life has been in health research, so I’m right at home at JAMA Network. But I’m still reminded of creative work sometimes. In particular, semicolons work for me like a weird little literary siren song. No matter how technical the article I’m editing is, the sight of a semicolon tends to bring to mind the novelists Kurt Vonnegut and Aleksandar Hemon.

It’s Vonnegut who strikes first and hardest. In one of his many musings on the craft of writing, the Slaughterhouse Five author once wrote, “First rule: Do not use semicolons… All they do is show you’ve been to college.”

When I read it, I thought of how much I liked the guy—even though I actually don’t agree with his grammatical idea. I think semicolons exist for more than one reason; they serve at least 2 grammatical purposes, and the best of them can work almost like a musical note.

First, there’s the grammatical part. The purpose of a semicolon is to not only to act as a connection between 2 independent sentences that are complete in themselves. It’s also a sort of super-charged comma. It’s a way to separate clauses that already contain commas without adding any confusion for the reader.

Here’s an example from the AMA Manual of Style (which itself explains semicolon use): “Often a comma will suffice if sentences are short; but when the main clauses are long and joined by coordinating conjunctions or conjunctive adverbs, especially if 1 of the clauses has internal punctuation, use a semicolon.” That’s the first use: a semicolon that connects 2 complete sentences. (The Manual notes a similar use for enumerated lists presented in a sentence.)

Here’s another sentence, which needs semicolons even though it lacks independent clauses: “Data collection occurred at health care facilities in Hinode Mizuho, Nishitama district, Tokyo, Japan; Ålesund, Møre og Romsdal, Norway; New York, New York; and Rochester, Minnesota.” Semicolons offer clarity here. Using only commas here would make it harder to determine the number of places listed, while semicolons help the reader infer that there were 4.

The third use of semicolons is to put 2 ideas that go together close beside each other. This is less a matter of grammar than a matter of flow, speed, or style. Sometimes, connecting sentences with a semicolon means that, despite their independence, they read as a single complete thought. Here’s an excellent (nonmedical) example: “The driver’s head was cubical, vines of hair creeping up his neck; there was a gray swirl around his bald spot, not unlike a satellite picture of a hurricane.”

That’s the work of Aleksandar Hemon, the other writer who semicolons bring to my mind. Hemon is an established author and TV scriptwriter (disclosure: he has also been an acquaintance of mine). In a review of one of his books, Hemon is described as “ragingly addicted to semicolons…. You get the feeling that if he ever somehow failed to sneak at least one semicolon into a paragraph, he might suffer some kind of syntactic withdrawal—his overworked right-hand pinkie finger would start to sweat and twitch uncontrollably over its home-key, until he managed to calm himself down with the methadone of a comma splice or an em dash.” (The reviewer furnishes several amusing examples.) Notably, the review is positive, even effusive; the writer describes Hemon’s semicolon use as in part a rhythmic motif.

No word on published research into that particular disorder of semicolon withdrawal, but this makes a good point: Vonnegut can be right. Semicolons can go too far. In Hemon’s case, it’s a matter of stringing multiple sentences together like beads on a necklace. In JAMA Network journals, it’s more often a case of authors placing semicolons in sentences that need only commas (“Data collection occurred in Japan; Norway; and the United States” when “…Japan, Norway, and the United States” would do, for example).

But I can’t criticize. When my life was still centered on creative writing, I once wrote an essay about the work of Aleksandar Hemon (warning: it contains swear words and descriptions of violence). I just checked, and it appears I didn’t go light on the fancy punctuation. Vonnegut’s established disapproval aside, I’d used semicolons 6 times.—Sophia Newman