Food Shoving in Fiction: Art or Life?
I’ve noticed something in my reading lately: children and young adults in print are disgusting eaters.
(The Subversive Copy Editor)
(The Subversive Copy Editor)
I’ve noticed something in my reading lately: children and young adults in print are disgusting eaters.
Yesterday I learned that my new blog home at Lingua Franca* does not use Chicago style. My first response was nonchalance; I know that not everyone uses CMOS. But overnight it hit me the way a sniffle on Wednesday is a cold by Thursday, and now I’m in full-bore whining mode.
I just finished reviewing my copyedited manuscript and I learned a valuable lesson: I am a hack writer.
For over a year, I’ve been turning up here weekly to rant and fume and share, and on my part, it’s been pure pleasure. I hear from enough of you to know not only that someone is out there listening,…
I’m guest blogging today at Clara Gillow Clark‘s children’s book blog, launching Eddie’s War and telling about how I got into trouble writing it. Come on over!
Finally, instead of just whining about overstuffing on e-mail, I can promote some easy and practical ways to start slimming it down.
Any writer or editor who works with Microsoft Word’s “tracked changes” feature has encountered the difficult of reading through a tangle of editing like this.
Do you ever start to show someone how to do something, and then realize that you aren’t exactly sure how you do it, that you do it differently every time, and that ultimately it’s as much a matter of intuition and experience as it is of following instructions? Like making pie crust? Or juggling? Or explaining to a writer everything you’d like to change in her manuscript?
Dear Carol, I am an experienced proofreader and beginner copyeditor who would like to work with academic publishers. I would like to get started with journals and move into books. Do you think this is a good approach?
Publishing a book is sometimes compared to having a baby. The similarities are undeniable: the seminal idea, the gestation, the labor. But at “birth,” the metaphor hits a wall, because in real life nobody—nobody—has an ugly baby.