Here’s a book every parent should consider for their summer reading list. Honest. Stop laughing.
Author: joediorio1
Writer, editor, proofreader. Making it one word at a time. Let's write carefully out there, people.
By Joe Diorio
My second book, Crisis Communications and the art of making nothing happen (Beaufort Books), turns one-year-old on January 7.
It has succeeded despite a lot of roadblocks thrown in the way.
First, my publisher took over a year to agree to publish the manuscript. I submitted a proposal in Spring 2022 and didn’t hear until almost the Summer of 2023 that it was a go. All along my editor said it was on her radar, but if so then it must’ve been ground clutter.
Second, the publication date kept getting pushed back; October 2023 to later in 2023, then to January 2024 and – if I hadn’t thrown a polite tantrum (let me go no further than that on this topic) – it might have been pushed back even further.
Third, Advance Reading Copies (ARCs), which are used to generate early reviews of the book, were delivered so late that few early readers got a copy. I resorted to emailing volunteer readers a PDF of the edited manuscript.
Fourth, fewer than one third of the people who agreed to write reviews did so. I am not going to drop names, but you know who you are.
And finally, for the initial print run my publisher ordered only 500 copies. Yes, just 500 copies. The size of a press run for new books varies, but usually at least 2,500 to 3,000 often comprise a first pass. My first book, A Few Words About Words. A common-sense look at writing and grammar (Beaufort Books, August 2021) had about that many copies printed. Crisis Communications had just 500. Say you have no faith in a title without saying you have no faith in a title.
But remember at the outset I said it has succeeded? It has.
For starters, people who have read the book – and it has sold just over half of the press run – love it. Not just like, love. A friend relayed the story that she sat down in a diner to have breakfast one morning and started reading the book after she ordered her meal. She tells me she was so taken in by the book that her server gently tapped her on the shoulder to ask if everything was OK.
“Yes, I’m fine. Why do you ask?” my friend asked.
“Because your food was delivered 45 minutes ago and you haven’t touched it,” the server said.
Yes, the book can be THAT engrossing.
Crisis Communications is a story about how a business survives a mass shooting. I wrote the book as fiction, basing it on personal experience. Yes, I was in a mass shooting. It sucked.
I thought the book would appeal to professionals in the communications field because they often spearhead the development of a crisis communications plan. And since over 30,000 people in the United States work in some form of public relations or communications, I figured that was a sizeable market. I also thought people working in the news business would like it since the book provides a glimpse at what goes on in a company behind the press conference.
To use an overused cliché, well I wasn’t wrong. A friend who wrote the forward for the book called it a “master class” on crisis planning.
This past August Crisis Communications won the President’s Award from the Florida Authors and Publishers Association; it was roundly applauded by readers. It was (and still is) a good book.
And I have faith in my book. Both of my books, in fact. So much so that I am donating all royalties from both books to food bank charities throughout the United States, figuring I can help people and maybe sell a book or two.
Sure, you can just donate directly to a charity, but buying the book helps a charity and it helps you hone your skills.
Crisis Communications is the book a public relations professional would want their crisis planning reluctant client to read (or at least summarize it for them). Reviewers recommend it for both educational and its entertainment value.
“This book provides an education on the importance of communications and PR when tragedy strikes a company. There’s more behind a story and this book reminds us of the importance of controlling the narrative or someone else will,” one reviewer said.
“Joe writes from both training and experience. His central point is the most important – be prepared in advance,” another reviewer wrote.
As for A Few Words About Words (AFAW), remember that at one time or another we all must put pens to paper, fingers to keyboard, or thumbs to a smart phone. I tell parents that AFAW is a great summer beach read, too, since many of us will have to help our kids write their annual “What I did on my summer vacation” essays.
So, I am sticking with my books. And why not? Who abandons a one-year-old?
Let’s write carefully out there, people.
Joe Diorio lives in Lee County, Florida and will gladly send you an autographed copy of his book in exchange for a review on Amazon. Contact him at diorio@comcast.net.
Survey identifies a continuing change in how language and writing are evolving
By Joe Diorio
FORT MYERS, FL (September 2025) – If you use an emoji at the end of a sentence – something 85% of us do – where does the punctuation go? Before or after the emoji?
A survey suggests that emojis either go right after the sentence-ending punctuation, or they are replacing said punctuation altogether 😊
Joe Diorio, author of A Few Words About Words. A common-sense look at writing and grammar (Beaufort Books) conducted an online survey in advance of National Punctuation Day (September 24) and found that:
- 85% of the respondents use an emoji every time they write something.
- 14% said they use an emoji before the sentence-ending punctuation.
- 40% of the respondents use an emoji at the end of a sentence instead of traditional punctuation marks – a period, a question mark, or an exclamation point. 😉
- 46% said they use emojis after the sentence-ending punctuation. So, the period still has a slight lead on the no period group. Or are emojis becoming a new form of punctuation themselves?
“We continually evolve language through continued use,” says Diorio. “Email was once called ‘Electronic Mail.’ A phone was once called ‘the telephone,’ so it’s not surprising to see this change in punctuation taking place. What is cool is we get to witness language changing as this evolution happens.”
Using email or LinkedIn messaging, Diorio reached out to approximately 300 communications professionals – public relations professionals, journalists, writers – and asked them to participate in the survey. “The respondents are people who write every day, so they have a good feel for language,” Diorio said. Approximately one-third of those contacted completed the survey.
“This is a fitting observance for National Punctuation Day (September 24),” Diorio said. “Punctuation’s roots date back to the early days of the written word. Someone reading printed text needed visual cues as to when to pause or when a sentence ends. Punctuation helps with the overall comprehension of the written message. Emojis are serving that same purpose, albeit with a bit more personality.”
A resident of Lee County, Florida, Diorio is the author of two books, the aforementioned A Few Words About Words, and Crisis Communications and the art of making nothing happen. Both are available through Amazon and other online resources.
Emoji Usage
Do you use an emoji before/after/in place of punctuation?
Contact:
Joe Diorio
610-291-2176
By Joe Diorio
Inspector Harry Conjugation from the Grammar Police (yes, “to serve and correct” is the department’s motto) parked his unmarked police car in front of the Donut Den in Nashville’s Green Hills neighborhood.
“No damn hills to speak of and not very much is green,” he muttered to himself. Harry despised incorrect labeling. He exited his vehicle and strode inside to get his daily coffee and donut. “Yes, I’m a damn cliché,” he thought. He dropped the cigarette he was nursing to the ground and snuffed it out with his shoe before going inside. As he did every day, he swore to himself that one cigarette would be his last. It was a lie he kept repeating every day, too.
Inside Loretta Scone was pouring Harry’s coffee. Ten years as a customer taught her how Harry liked his morning Cuppa Joe, “Cuppa Joe” being an iconic nickname dating back, or so history suggests, to World War I when Navy Secretary Josephus Daniels banned alcohol on Naval ships, therefore leaving coffee as the strongest beverage available. Sailors therefore referred to this shot of caffeine as their “Cuppa Joe.” Harry loved reminding himself of the lexigraphy of words and phrases.
Harry looked at his smart phone (“And why is it smart? Doesn’t do a damn thing unless you tell it to.”) as Loretta finished pouring his coffee. She also slipped a sheet of paper, folded in a napkin, to him.
Since Loretta never gave Harry a napkin (“Get your own damn napkin,” she was fond of saying to anyone who had to courage to ask her for one.) getting a napkin from Loretta made him take note. He looked closer and saw something scribbled on the napkin.
Scrawled in red Sharpie were the words, “This is a ROBBARY”.
Harry looked up over his teardrop shaped aviator sunglasses to see two nervous young men – wearing dirty sweatshirts and knit caps – sitting at one of the few tables the Donut Den has available to customers. He was less than 10 feet from them when he spoke.
“You gentlemen have some explaining to do, don’t you?” Harry asked.
Nervous kid #1 stood up, producing a switchblade style knife. “Explain what? To WHO?”
Harry maintained his cool before speaking. “Well, for starters, you can’t spell very well,” Harry calmly said, pointing to the spelling of the word “ROBBARY” on the note.
“And punctuation OUTSIDE of the quote marks? You really weren’t paying attention in English Grammar class, were you?” Harry took a few steps toward the two perps (“Perps” being a very old slang term for “perpetrator,” which has recently been replaced by police with the word “actor.” But c’mon, “perp” is just so much more fun to say. Whoops, I’m digressing again.)
Nervous kid #1 decided he had heard enough and lunged at Harry, who deftly stepped to one side, produced his pocket-size super soaker and blasted the perp/actor with blue editor’s ink. The ink hit the kid square between the eyes.
“AHHH, my eyes,” Nervous kid #1 screamed. “I’m not supposed to get editor’s ink in my eyes.”
Harry shoved the kid aside with his foot and turned to Nervous kid #2 who was making a move toward Loretta.
He never made it. Harry grabbed him by the collar, lifted him from the floor, bringing his face to within inches of Harry’s. Nervous kid #2 was sweating as Harry spoke to him through gritted teeth.
“Look, punk, I’m tired of dealing with your kind. The kind who says ‘your’ when they really mean ‘you’re’ in a sentence. The kind who dangles modifiers. The kind who doesn’t care if he uses the Oxford Comma or not. You know how many puppies have died because your kind just won’t use the Oxford Comma? Well, do ya punk?”
Harry was about to throw Nervous kid #2 aside when someone’s hand grabbed his arm.
“That’s enough, Inspector Conjugation,” the voice was from Captain Eloise Editor, who has run the Bureau of Correct Grammar since before Ted Bernstein was a copy editor at The New York Times, or so goes the rumor. There was another rumor that she dated Benjamin Dryer, but let’s not get carried away here.
Harry pulled away from his Captain. “These punks have to learn!” he said.
“They’re not going to learn by browbeating the rules of grammar into them, Inspector. If that was the case, then everybody would be hiring Catholic nuns to run their schools.”
“So, he’s just gonna be let go?” Harry said, pointing to Nervous kid #1.
“Frist, stop dropping your gerunds,” Captain Editor said. “Second, no. He’ll go into a rehab grammar course and probably do some time in juvenile hall.”
An approaching siren – several of them, in fact – caught Captain Editor’s attention. “Nashville Metro police,” she said. “Our work here is done.”
Harry was not moving from where he stood. “They need to be corrected,” he protested. Their subject and verbs probably don’t even agree.”
“We can’t change the world ourselves, Inspector. Just one blue mark at a time,” Captain Editor said as she and Harry left the Donut Den, driving away seconds before two Metro Nashville police cars pulled up. It was amazing that the traffic on Hillsboro Pike was light enough to let Harry and the Captain make a smooth departure.
The MNPD cops ran inside, finding Nervous kid #1 and #2 in a very submissive role.
“What’s with all the blue ink on this one’s face?” one of the officers said, looking at Loretta.
“Oh, that nut Harry Conjugation was here.”
“HIM? Jesus Christ,” the police officer said. “When will that guy understand he isn’t the police. Did he do any damage?”
“Yeah, he damaged my eyes, Officer Kelly” Nervous kid #1 said, looking at the name tag of the police officer who was standing over him.
“Really? Your eyes are good enough to read my name tag, so it can’t be that bad. On your feet, punk.”
“Hey, you’re arresting US? What about that guy Harry?”
Officer Kelly shrugged. “He interrupted an armed robbery. He made a little mess with blue paint on your face. That’s about it.” Officer Kelly looked at the robbery note that Loretta handed him. “Jesus Christ, can’t you just use a generative A.I. system to write your stick-up notes? You know, one that knows how to spell?” The two perps were hauled off to justice.
A few miles away Harry was behind the wheel of his car, fuming at the world. He gripped the wheel tighter than a Boa Constrictor grips its prey and muttered.
“People don’t write properly anymore,” he groused. “They’ll say ‘I’m like’ along with a sound effect or, occasionally a word. Or they start a sentence with ‘Let’s do this,’ not even bothering to put a subject noun in place.”
He passed a billboard on Hillsboro Pike, offering cheap mobile phones and urging the reader to “Reach out” for a discount. “They can’t even say ‘contact,’ write to,’ or ‘talk to us’. Crap but the world is going to elucidation hell.”
His radio squawked, “Harry, it’s Captain Typo. Let’s have a conversation about your conduct at the Donut Den.”
Harry ignored the radio call. “Conversation, huh? He means ‘discussion’. Dude can’t even write. Next, he’s going to tell someone he and I decided to have a ‘conversate,’ using an intransitive verb as a noun.”
Harry continued his wallowing with grammatical pity. “Ever hear someone say they needed some ‘leverage’ in a situation, yet there was no fulcrum involved? And why is ‘grow’ used as a metaphorical transitive verb, as in ‘Grow your business’?”
“I know what Cap is going to talk about. He’s going to give me the ‘be nice to the suspects’ talk, then close with something like ‘moving forward.’ Yeah, he’s pulling that phrase from some dead area of his brain … the same area where people grab and use the word ‘synergy’ or ‘it is what it is’.”
Harry continued musing to himself. Then a moment of consolation when he realized that, as long as people keep screwing up their grammar, he’ll always have a job. And Loretta will always have her favorite detective.
He parked in front of the Bellevue Branch of the Nashville Public Library. It was a good front for the Grammar Police … at least they let the Grammar Police use their conference rooms. As he exited the vehicle he heard a fellow speaking loudly on his mobile phone.
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be there with youse guys tonight,” the fellow said.
YOUSE GUYS? Harry’s eye twitched as he reached for his super soaker …
By Joe Diorio
May 7, 2025
I share a media dilemma with Jordon Hudson, the girlfriend of former New England Patriots head coach Bill Belichick. During a recent interview with CBS News, Hudson, who is 50-plus years younger than Belichick, shot down a question from reporter Tony Dokoupil about how she and the eight-time Super Bowl winning coach met.
Forty-three years ago, I tried shooting down questions from a newspaper reporter and damn near got myself fired.
It was 1982 and my employer, the IBM Corporation, was going to hold its annual shareholders meeting in Jacksonville, Florida. When IBM’s public relations staff told the Jacksonville news media about this the reaction from news reporters was, “Why Jacksonville?”
IBM tried its darndest not to answer that question. It didn’t work out well.
In the weeks leading up to the April 1982 meeting the local newspaper asked if they could interview a “typical” IBMer. The manager of the local IBM sales office was identified as “typical.” IBM also decided to have a public relations professional sit in on the interview.
I drew the short straw and was that P.R. professional.
I was instructed to make sure no questions were asked that would seem “un IBM-like.” No one told me what an “un-IBM” question was, so when the reporter asked the branch manager if he experienced a sense of glee when his sales team won a bid for new business, and when the manager started to flounder in his response, I chimed in and said it was all about fair competition and not beating the other guys. Basically, I told the reporter we were not answering that question.
The reporter’s story, therefore, noted that “IBM flew a P.R. professional, Joe Diorio, into town to shoot down any questions the company didn’t like.”
An executive at IBM’s Armonk, New York headquarters read that and bellowed, “What’s a Joe Diorio???”
From that moment on until I left IBM (on my own; I wasn’t fired), my nickname in some circles was “WhatsaJoe.” It still isn’t funny.
I’m not Jordon Hudson, but the blowback over my actions were as bad as it was when Hudson, upon hearing Dokoupil ask Belichick how he met her, interrupted the interview, saying “We’re not talking about this.” Belichick never answered and just glared at Dokoupil as though he was a game official who just made a questionable call against his team.
It’s been over a week since that interview and the angry exchange has not vanished from the news.
Similarly, 43 years ago the press never stopped asking IBM why it selected Jacksonville for the annual meeting. A colleague said to me, “it’s almost as though they were saying, “Why this hellhole? Or are they looking for some evil intention?”
The reality behind IBM’s selection of Jackson was not evil and it was not an attempt to have the meeting in some backwater town. North Florida in 1982 had a very large concentration of retired IBM employees living there, almost all of whom were shareholders. It made perfect sense, therefore, to have the shareholder meeting near shareholders.
Why IBM didn’t want to just say that still makes no sense to me. I am convinced that if someone said that to the Jacksonville press the “why Jacksonville” question would have gone away, I wouldn’t have had to sit in on an interview, and my uncomfortable nickname would never been created.
I cannot speak for Hudson or Belichick, but it seems like a simple, “we met online” or something equally innocuous would have answered the question Dokoupil was asking and, according to the subtitle of my book on crisis communications, “made nothing happen.”
But like I said, I’m not Jordon Hudson. But I did learn my lesson that open communication is better than obstruction.
Joe Diorio is the author of “Crisis Communications and the art of making nothing happen” (Beaufort Books, 2025) and “A Few Words About Words. A common-sense look at writing and grammar (Beaufort Books, 2021).
Joe Diorio Writer, editor. 