WordGazing: Proof of Proofreaders’ Value

Found this ad online this morning while I was browsing for new clients:

HI
I am looking for author to help me with my upcomming book. (Technical and non-friction author preferred.)

Of course, running a spellcheck program could have fixed the poorly spelled upcomming. But what about non-friction?

Technically, this isn’t a misspelling; spellcheck would have ignored it. Yet, if it doesn’t communicate what the writer intended, it’s a typo.

Now I’m left to wonder what the writer intended. Is s/he simply averse to conflict? Or does s/he really REALLY need an editor?

[Photo of 1901 proofreaders by Thomas Lewis.]

WordGazing: It's Only A Letter

Years ago, I had a publishing client whose boss—the owner of the publishing company, no less—thought proofreaders unnecessary. As a former journalist, he believed writers should be held accountable for their writing mistakes; that is, writers shouldn't make any mistakes. Hence the reason this publisher had no staff proofreaders.

What the owner failed to consider, aside from the fact that precious few writers are perfect, were the myriad goofs and glitches that can occur over the course of production: Copy moves, falls away, gets rekeyed by designers, changes fonts—you name it, I've seen it happen.

This all came back to me this morning when I opened an old issue of ARTnews magazine. Staring at me was this ad copy:

If the world tresures it, Huntington T. Block insures it.

The company was announcing its six new staff members—most of them vice presidents, none of them proofreaders. The copy is Block's slogan and is probably on all of the company's marketing materials.

Now most of us can be forgiving and see the typo for what it is: a mistake. After all, only one little letter dropped out, and a fairly useless one, at that (Andrew Carnegie would have been proud). We can still comprehend the meaning of the sentence.

However, there will be others who take the typo as a sign of how their art might get treated by Block: carelessly. The insurer will never know how much potential business it lost from this one omission.

Clearly, details matter. I bet no one at Huntington T. Block would dare suggest that proofreaders are unnecessary.


[Black Iris II by Georgia O'Keeffe.]

Hitting the PC Ceiling

I started reading Betsy Burton's The King's English, her memoir on opening an independent bookstore in Utah. She and her business partner struggled over the perfect name for their start-up and finally came to a happy agreement over "The King's English."

It was the mid-'70s and not surprising when a couple of feminists walked through the door of the shop. And being a feminist herself, Burton didn't expect to be taken to task by the women.

"Why not The Queen's English?" they asked.

Burton responded with grace and turned the troublemakers into customers. The scenario reminds me of a hiring incident I once bumbled through.

In the mid-'90s, I began my tenure as managing editor of a stable of newsletters. The editorial department was a rowdy generational mix of writers and word snobs who ridiculed me for my political correctness (e.g., I insisted on using a plural in place of "he/him" so as to include both genders). Slowly, they came around.

But then one day, even my sense of empathy was put to the test.

I was interviewing a candidate for a proofreader position. He was smart, had the right credentials, but seemed a bit too smug for my liking. And then it happened. I used the phrase "Copy Nazi" with a smile and his dander went up.

As I listened, mouth agape, this fellow reprimanded me for being so insensitive. Turns out his great-grandfather was an SS official of some sort and he didn't appreciate my little witticism.

Ouch! The PC girl wasn't PC enough, apparently. As serious as colleagues saw me, I had nothing on this guy. I knew he wouldn't make it in the company culture and decided on the spot not to hire him. But he's stayed with me—I think to remind me not to push anything too far.

"Signs, Signs, Everywhere Are Signs . . ."

emember that song from an era gone by? It lodged in my brain recently when I noticed some signs in need of an editor's touch.

"Please Do Not Park on Dunkin' Donuts" the placard warned from the building next door to the parking lot. Of course, anyone could easily deduce that the parking lot belonged to the Dunkin' Donuts franchise facing it and that parking there was reserved for DD customers. But that's not what the sign SAYS. Arguably, as long as I don't crush a donut, I can park in the lot and shop at the adjacent store.

This kind of imprecise language gets us in trouble in contractual matters, business negotiations, even friendships.

Here's another parking lot sign: "This parking lot is reserved for patients, visitors, physicians, and employees of XYZ Care Facility!"

What's wrong with the sentence? (Don't bother answering if you're an anti-exclamation point activist.) Nothing, as far as a proofreader is concerned. The problem surfaces only if you know something about the facility. And this is where a good editor can save the day. Patients at this facility typically arrive in an ambulance, stay for a lengthy period, and leave accompanied by friends or family. Patients don't drive there. So the comma following "patients" should be replaced by an apostrophe. Or better yet, "patients" should be omitted.

For many of us, what we mean is frequently (and unintentionally) not what we say or write. And it's the genesis of plenty of misunderstandings and misguided actions.

"Signs, Signs, Everywhere Are Signs . . ." Is that cloying tune lodged in your head yet?