Do you ever wake up peppy and bounce out of bed Tiggerlike, skip the coffee, dig in the back of the closet for that kicky little skirt, brush your teeth a bit too enthusiastically and splat a glop of toothpaste down the front of the kicky skirt (just as well, since it was, after all, in the back of the closet for a reason), swap it for the clean, more matronly skirt, drag in to the office feeling suddenly elderly, with the start of a caffeine headache—and open a manuscript returned by a writer and find that she is not at all happy and has put “stet” all over your editing because she has completely misunderstood you?
Me too.
Very occasionally when this happens I detect an overly defensive author willfully misinterpreting suggestions in a passive-aggressive way just to make trouble. Most often, however, I’m at fault. My explanations were incomplete or misleading, and now I’m faced with the author’s dismay: “I don’t want footnotes!” “Stet this figure!” “I can’t possibly proofread the whole thing twice!” I have to rush to explain and reassure that the work is not ruined.
At one point during the production of the Chicago Manual of Style’s 16th edition, I caused alarm by carelessly using the terms “batches” and “rounds” instead of the more accurate “page proofs” and “revised pages” in an e-mail requesting that the typesetters mark all instances of reflow. It took four people about ten e-mails to sort that one out (including Russell Harper being uncharacteristically unhelpful: “I thought batches referred to cookies and rounds to ales”).
So here are a few suggestions for preventing confusion and dealing with it when it happens.
- Reread your drafts through the eyes of your intended reader.
- Don’t muddle your queries with obsequious disclaimers. (“Was it your intention here to hyphenate? Every source I consulted leaves this compound open, but perhaps in the context, the hyphen is justified.”) Rather, be decisive but flexible without cringing. (“Hyphen removed hereafter, but we can discuss.”)
- Query in a way that encourages the writer to fix the problem rather than simply reply yes or no. Don’t ask, “Are you referring here to social networking sites?” Ask what you really want to know: “Change this to ‘social networking sites’?”
- When a writer believes you are trying to destroy his text, reassure him and apologize, even if you aren’t sure you were at fault. It won’t kill you. Getting defensive will only prolong the resolution, especially if the other person is being obtuse or difficult.
- In extreme cases, bake a batch or buy a round.
Cakes and Beer? Was this by any chance “The Egyptian Book of the Dead?”
“Do you ever wake up peppy […]?”
No, actually
Ernie: “The law does not say that there are to be no cakes and ale, but there are to be no cakes and ale except such as are required for the benefit of the company.” –Bowen LJ, Hutton v. West Cork Railway Co.
“Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale?” –Sir Toby Belch, Twelfth Night
“Don’t muddle your queries with obsequious disclaimers”
I have been guilty of this one! Fortunately these days I reread my queries at the end of an edit to see if I’ve answered any of them myself and they often get shortened or clarified.
To make sure there aren’t any hurt feelings, I usually advise all my authors up front not to take my criticisms of their work personally & remind them that they’re hiring me to edit their books to make them as marketable as possible. So far, none have taken offense at anything; most just say, “Wow!” I think the third pass through the manuscript to review all my previous notes helps with this; it’s a good opportunity to refine any comments that seem too harsh & look at the entire manuscript with fresh eyes.
(Oh, and count me in for the cake & beer!)