Too Late to Learn? Helping the Reluctant with Technology
Everyone has at least one friend, relative, or colleague who is not yet competent in even the most basic computer tasks: creating a document, e-mailing, browsing online.
[Continue reading]
(The Subversive Copy Editor)
(The Subversive Copy Editor)
Everyone has at least one friend, relative, or colleague who is not yet competent in even the most basic computer tasks: creating a document, e-mailing, browsing online.
[Continue reading]
Thank you so much, fellow confessors! It was fun, therapeutic, and a little painful reading about your gaffes and lapses. Many of them sound familiar: spelling-check errors, overlooked homophones, misguided global corrections, and those goofs that are simply too huge to catch. Maybe worst of all are the ones we introduce ourselves in a moment of mental vacation.
Here in Chicago we have to work at celebrating the advent of spring. Even typing in my subzero office is challenging—thank god for fingerless gloves. So my idea is this: in the spirit of spring cleaning, since there’s no way I’m throwing my mattresses out in the snow, let’s air our consciences instead. Let’s confess our copyediting sins! I’ll stop at three. (Not that I have more than that . . .)
When my office hires at the entry level, there’s a proofreading and copyediting test, and for various reasons we give the test in person and on paper: It levels the playing field by eliminating access to e-mail and online sources. It shows us how a person will mark up copy on the job (a frequent chore for the new kid). It isolates proofing and editing skills from word-processing skills. Results vary.
Today I have tips for disposing of two tasks in mere seconds. While less savvy writers and editors are laboring over for the same chores for hours, we can go dancing!
Public sticklers have annoyed me forever, and I’ve been meaning to write about that, but recently, in a post titled “Editors, Would You Do Me This Tiny Favour?” Katy McDevitt at PublishEd Adelaide did a great job of it herself. McDevitt gets to the meat of it in point 3:
A few months ago I encountered a bank of hotel elevators that made a big impression on me. This might be old hat to you,* but to me it was a wondrous invention: there were no buttons inside the elevators for choosing your floor. Instead,
A couple of weeks ago I attended Ruth Thaler-Carter’s Communication Central conference in Baltimore and participated in the “Editing Summit” panel. My contribution was to speak about what we look for at the University of Chicago Press when hiring a copyeditor. Afterward, I was dismayed when a young woman approached and said “You talked about what you didn’t want in an employee. Could you say something about what you do look for?”
Have you ever been put out of a cab after you ever waited forever and finally lassoed one and got in and after sailing past a street where you would have turned (if you had been driving), said, “Shouldn’t you have turned there?” and the driver slammed to the curb and said, “You can get another cab,” leaving you incredulously asking, “What—? Are you kidding? Are you putting me out?” and, seeing his face, had to grab your things and slam the door (cab drivers hate that) and hike back four blocks to the thoroughfare and wait for another cab? Me, too.
Time and again, copyeditors ask me questions that leave me scratching my head. The question always amounts to something like this: “If I follow the rule, nonsense and chaos will result. What should I do?”