Thanks to James Harbeck for the punny board title.
What are your favourite risqué typos that almost got through? #SpellcheckWillNotSaveYou
Thanks to James Harbeck for the punny board title.
What are your favourite risqué typos that almost got through? #SpellcheckWillNotSaveYou
This month’s cartoon is a bit of an experiment. I got an iPad to replace my decrepit laptop and am trying an all-digital workflow for the first time. I’m, uh, not thrilled with these results, but I didn’t have the time to redo it. I’ll keep trying until I figure out something that will work. I haven’t imported my custom fonts to the device yet, so this cartoon is a throwback to the days when I hand-lettered all the dialogue. (Maybe that’s why the whole thing looks amateurish—well, especially amateurish—to me. I hope you’ll forgive me!)
Anyway, what inspired this cartoon were conversations I saw among editors on social media, where a few of us wondered: As we face an existential threat and a massive shift in how we live and function, does it really matter if a compound is open, hyphenated, or closed?
Nitpicking about commas and applying house style seem like such trivial undertakings in the grand scheme of things, especially when compared with what essential service workers do. It’s easy to feel useless and even expendable, particularly when some clients are cancelling projects because of the economic downturn resulting from the pandemic.
But what these recent weeks have highlighted for me is that clear and accurate communication is more important than ever. We have the skills to help public health officials, health researchers, and policy makers get critical information to people who need it and, importantly, to strike the right tone.
This crisis is an excellent reminder that editing is about improving communication, not mindlessly applying rules. We have an opportunity to reassess how we approach a text and separate the edits that help the message reach its audience more effectively from those that do nothing other than uphold arcane notions of language, feed our ego, or waste our time.
Poor communication excludes, and when we all have to solve a problem together, we can’t afford to exclude anyone.
Thank you for coming back month after month! I’m grateful I still have a way to connect with colleagues even though I’ll miss seeing you at the Editors Canada conference this year. I wish you all good health.
Inspired by Jennifer Ralston.
Guest appearance by ReferenceBot.
This month’s cartoon is dedicated to Erika Thorkelson.
Play along! What other fields would the Plain-o-matic wipe out? Here’s a blank where you can fill out:
(Someone make one for plain language editors, please!)
Tweet me your creations, and I’ll retweet them.
***
What happened to October’s cartoon? My computer was out of commission for six weeks, and when I finally got it back in the middle of October I was too busy to put a cartoon together. Without my digital tools, I tried more traditional media by participating in Inktober. You can watch me struggle with drawing anything more complex than a rudimentary stick figure on this Twitter thread.
Dedicated to Tanya Gold and Heather E. Saunders.
Want to know more about #StetWalk? Check out Grammar Girl Mignon Fogarty’s primer on it.
This cartoon is dedicated to Jonathon Owen.
CONTENT NOTE: Potty-mouth.
I’ve spent a disproportionate amount of my billable time fact checking and editing references. Depending on the project schedule, I often wouldn’t mind that kind of work, which could be kind of meditative—I’d put on my favourite music and get ’er done. But under time pressure, the task could be frustrating, especially if I knew that basically nobody would be reading the back matter. And why, I wondered, was reference formatting so hard for authors to get right? Continue reading “Spent”