"Simply edited"

I received my annual performance bonus: $250, net was $153. My bonus was the same as the proposal center manager’s AA, the latter told me.

I sent an email to our division’s senior VP, inquiring as to why my bonus wasn’t larger in light of the much-touted (obviously bogus) “benefit” of bonuses for each winning proposal.

The following is part of her response:

“Participation in the sales commission pools is based on . . . your contribution to winning the contract. So, for example, if you are an editor and you simply edited [my emphasis] the proposal (did your job), then that would not normally merit participation in the pool. However, if you went above and beyond (identified critical problems in the proposal that did not meet stated evaluation criteria, found compliance issues that if missed might have made us non-compliant, provided unique suggestions around content, etc.), then the team would use our process to propose/request adding you to the pool.”

That’s reasonable, all things being equal. But they’re not. I don't see proposals until they reach the “Gold Team” step, i.e, the contributions she mentions that would merit a bonus are completed in the multiple reviews that take place before Gold Team.

This is just another manifestation of the gross undervaluation of editing.

Theater of the absurd: two characters, one act (Persona non grata II: 2/23 update)

Me: I've finished revising the style guide, except for the acronym section. I can't complete that until the acronym list is finalized, you know, the list I sent to you a couple of weeks ago.

Proposal manager: I haven't looked at it yet. [Nor did she ever acknowledge receipt of it.]

Me: Well, I guess in the grand scheme of things, in the context of the proposal center, you should give it as much attention as it deserves.

PM: I'll try to look at it tonight.

And I'll try to not be bald.

Thank you Christine.

I’ve seen her around my floor of our offices for a good while; if memory serves, for most of the year plus I’ve been working there. Yesterday I decided to introduce myself. She’s one of the few people I didn’t know by name.

Christine told me what she does for the company. I did the same. We had a short conversation, at the end of which she said, “Thanks for all your work.” It made my day. I’m easy to please.

I got more from Christine—someone who has no relationship to the Proposal Center whatsoever—than from those I directly support or report to. Ah, the kindness of strangers.

Persona non grata II

At last Friday’s team-building session, we ended with a review of our individual action items. These are designed to improve the functioning of the proposal center.

My action item was to submit to the proposal manager a list of widely used and commonly understood acronyms that don’t need to be spelled out in proposals (e.g., DoD for Department of Defense).

Over the weekend I reviewed several proposals, pulled out a long list of those acronyms, and e-mailed the list to the PM, with a cc to the proposal center manager and the two proposal coordinators.

At yesterday’s staff meeting the proposal center manager again reviewed the action items to ensure we all understand our responsibilities regarding them. She and the proposal coordinators didn’t even acknowledge that I had already completed mine. Nor have I heard back from the proposal manager.

As an editor, I’m familiar with not being appreciated or thanked. As a human being, I’ll never accept being ignored.

The Hubris of the Production Guy

A.C. produces our proposals—printing, binding, preparing CD versions, shipping, and so forth.

At yesterday’s team building session, we each had an opportunity to speak (among other things) about what our co-workers could do to make our individual jobs easier.

A.C. said that when he produces a proposal he expects to replace pages that are smudged, printed off kilter, blurry, etc. He then added, “But I don’t expect to spot errors when a proposal reaches production.”

Well, excuse the rest of us for living, A.C.!

First, there’s no such thing as an error-free proposal. That’s one reason we have the page-by-page book review step just before proposals are queued for shipping.

Second, and more important—much more important—is the fact that for a variety of systemic weaknesses, we can’t get a handle on version control. Specifically, despite the best quality control/review efforts of editing, graphics, desktop publishing, and proposal coordination, proposal managers and senior reviewers can—and do—go into many documents and screw them up after they’re designated as “final.” And there is no time for any of the rest of us to review post-final revisions.

It must be quite a burden being perfect, A.C.

Neologism

acronymphomania

One entry found.

Main Entry: ac-ro-nym-pho-ma-nia
Pronunciation: \ˌa-krə-nim(p)-fə-ˈmā-nē-ə,-nyə\
Function: noun
Etymology: from Greek akr + New Latin nymphae + Late Latin mania
Date: circa 2009

: excessive desire to use acronyms in one's writing, without ever spelling them out: the condition also can manifest itself in an acronymphomaniac's speech

Overheard at the Editors' Club

Who's Who: Him and Her are freelance editors for the publishing company where Hayley works as a production editor.

Him: After receiving all that feedback from Hayley, including how we use the serial comma, I started proofing the book. And there's a pattern. The serial comma is there without the "and" following it, as in, "He feels that editing is tedious, unrewarding, thankless." WTF is going on here?

Her: Hmmm. I'd've inserted the "ands." Maybe Hayley did and the author pitched a fit, fell in it, and demanded that they be deleted. Understand they cave on issues that don't affect meaning/content.

Him: I'm putting them in; she can deal with it however she wants. Your final sentence, which I get, certainly calls into question why we even bother to make a large percentage of our edits.

Persona non grata

Yesterday a proposal manager (in charge of a group of writers) sent a query to one of our two proposal coordinators (they shepherd proposals through the production process).

Unlike most PMs, he knows there is something called style and wants to consider it before his writers begin their work on the proposal.

He asked her the following style questions: (1) Ft. Monmouth or Fort Monmouth? (2) Service Desk or service desk? (3) information assurance or Information Assurance? (4) Periods at the end of bulleted items or not? (5) Army/DoD Group, or Army and DoD Group?

Not only did she not refer his questions to me, her response was that (1) the items weren't that important, (2) he and his writers could decide, and (3) “the Editor will also try and catch any inconsistency that was missed by the writers.”

Let's break down the three elements of her response. First, how we treat each of these items is what style is all about. Second, I’ve been charged with developing and enforcing house style. Third, I am a nameless editor who will “try” to catch errors.

Because she cc'd me on the e-mail thread, I responded to his questions with specific answers for each item. He thanked me. She didn’t even acknowledge my e-mail to him.

Again, editing is a thankless job, and it is made even more so (what is less than thankless?) when our role is ignored or, worse, undermined.

Note to self: Handout for "So, you want to be an editor?" Career Day lecture

For the past two days, I've been editing the resume section of a proposal. There are about 125 pages of resumes, all of which contain variations of the following:

Education, Certifications, Training and Computer Skills

BA, Criminal Justice, University of Delaware

Microsoft Certified Systems Engineer, Microsoft Certified Professional + Internet, and Microsoft Certified Professional

Operating Systems: RHEL AS 3.x, 4x, 5x, Windows 2003 Server, Windows 2000 Professional, Server, Advanced Server, Windows XP, Windows NT Workstation/Server 3.51–4.0, Windows 95/98 Novell Netware 3.x–4.11, Cisco IOS 11.x–12.x, BTOS, CTOS, MS Dos 5–6.22, Windows 3.x

Hardware: HP DL Series, Foundry Networks ServerIron Load balancers and SA-400 SSL accelerators, HP EVA 5000, Brocade Fabric switching, Cisco Infiniband switching, F5 BigIp, IBM PC's and Compatibles, Compaq Proliant/Prosignia 1500 – 8500R, Compaq ML 570, BayNetworks 10/100 Etherswitches, Compaq 10/100 Mbps Netelligent Hubs, 3Com Linkbuilder Hubs, Cisco 2500 series routers, Hewlett Packard Netserver LH4r and LT 6000r, Hewlett Packard printers/plotters, Hewlett Packard 80GB Optical Jukebox, Hewlett Packard Jetdirect Print Servers, APC, Compaq, and Liebert UPS's, HP ESL712 Tape Library, HP VLS6500 Virtual Tape Library, Ultrium Tape Series, Compaq 15/30 and 35/70 DLT, Procomm CD Tower, Procomm CD-R, Network General Sniffer, PentaScanner+ Cable Tester, Unisys B28 & B38 Series Micro-computer

Software: Oracle 10gAS, Oracle RAC Clustering, Netscape Enterprise Server 3.5, I-Planet 4.1, Dynamo 4.5, Jrun 2.3, Verity Search Engine, Interwoven, Microsoft Office, Microsoft Project, Exchanger Server 4.0/5.0/5.5, Oracle 7/8/9/10 client and server, Viewstar 4.3/5.0 client and server, EIS/Infobook, HP Systems Insight Manager, IIS 5.0/4.0, DHCP, WINS, Visio, Outlook, Symantec AV, McAfee AV, Installshield, PKZip, PVCS Version Manager, PVCS Tracker, MapInfo, Ghost, Lotus 123, Lotus Organizer, WordPerfect, cc:Mail, PCAnywhere, Brightstor Arcserve, Internet Explorer, Netscape, Erwin/ERX, Document Designer, Enhanced Multiplan, OFIS Graphics, OFIS Mail

Acronyms, National Public Radio edition

I just heard an NPR news report relating to the alleged architect of the 9-11 attacks.

After saying Khalid Sheikh Mohammed, the news reader subsequently referred to him as KSM. I've previously heard this on several news outlets.

What immediately sprang to mind was JFK, and then the classic moment from the 1988 vice-presidential debates between Lloyd Bentsen and Dan Quayle. (You know where this is going.)

To borrow from Bentsen's classic zinger at Quayle that evening, "Khalid Sheikh Mohammed, you're no JFK."

If a tree falls in the forest . . .

Similarly, if a proposal center staff has mandatory team building (an oxymoron if I’ve ever seen one, moron being the operative letters), but not everyone who impacts that staff’s productivity participates in the session, what results can be hoped for? Not much, if anything; just increased frustration and anger.

In brief, our problems relate to one simple, but powerful dynamic. We have a process and procedures for workflow, but everyone who submits work to us effectively ignores our "rules" and, importantly, is outside of our “jurisdiction.”

We have no control whatsoever over proposal managers and writers (almost all of whom are contractors), nor can we dictate anything to a host of VPs who review, edit, and sign off on proposals. Thus, our system carries little if any weight beyond our offices.

Without the buy-in of those principals, our Feb. 6 team building session will be like a flight whose passengers all want to have lunch in Paris but the pilot sets his bearings for Boston.

Speaking of lunch, our hapless, moronic manager—who set up the session—promises a good one halfway through the proceedings.

Out of the Loop

The first thing I do when editing each proposal section is to review the graphics for errors. These are the elements of the proposal created by our graphic artists that I can’t access (edit) through Word. I mark them up and hand them off to a proposal coordinator for assignment to one of the graphics staff.

All too often the proposal coordinator tells me that the graphics in question have already been replaced. I don’t know—or care—if the new versions have been proofed. Why don’t I care?

First, because, despite an explicit directive from the proposal center manager that every graphic should come to me for proofing before it is placed into a proposal, that rarely happens. And second, the proposal coordinators consistently fail to apprise me of the status of material that I’m responsible for editing.

I am plagued by dysfunctional management and supervision.

The soul of the machine

As you know, when working on a computer the "Oh, sh!t" moment can come at any time.

On PCs it's often the dreaded Blue Screen of Death. That's one of the countless reasons I made the Big Switch to Macs about six years ago.

Because I do some editing at home on my iMac and some in the office on my PC—emailing files back and forth—I run the risk of files being corrupted in one fashion or another.

My company, being a leader in the IT field, has a computing infrastructure that keeps the Blue Screen at bay. But the system can't do anything about what can go wrong when one uses different versions of software on different operating systems.

Since I mix and match, so to speak, this is one message I fear: "The default format for Word 2004. This format is shared by Word 97 through Word 2003 for Windows, and Word 98 through Word 2004 for Mac. Compatibility check recommended."

I recently lost a full day's worth of edits (at home) on the endnotes section of a book I'm editing. When I opened the files in the office, all the superscript numbers in the text and their partners in the endnotes had changed from arabic to roman.

Lesson learned: Don't change computers midstream through a project.

Ten things about editing

1. Always have a plan B. (Backup your files.)

2. Don’t hold your breath waiting for thanks. (It’s an ungrateful world out there; one in which most editors are invisible.)

3. If you are not absolutely the last person to touch a “product” before it goes out the door, you can count on someone else screwing it up. (That’s why there’s version control.)

4. Learn to live with clutter. (Keep hard and soft copies until works are published. Questions arise and revisions take place.)

5. Many people are overly sensitive and easily offended. (Reread every author query that you write. Then wait. Then read it again before sending it.)

6. Never let your guard down. (If you read ten pages of clean text, page 11 will contain errors.)

7. Save, save, save. (Computers crash. Enough said.)

8. The devil is in the details. (Read very single character on every page.)

9. Use every tool at your disposal. (Always run spell and grammar checks.)

10. Whether or not you succeed in a job doesn’t necessarily relate to your performance. (The best editor in the world will fail if he’s not a team player.)

Abracadabra

I used to work for a company that valued editors, understood that quality editing takes time, and built sufficient time into production schedules to allow that to happen. Managers often told us that it was time to “do your magic” when they gave us assignments. This is not the case where I currently work.

Yesterday I received word that next Tuesday I’ll receive 125 pages—the technical part of a proposal—to edit by COB Wednesday. I’m supposed to receive the material around noon. If the past is a prelude, that means around 5 p.m.

I have repeatedly told the proposal coordinators that I can edit roughly seven pages an hour; on average. If the writers don't follow our style rules (which is a near certainty), or if the material is badly written, that number can go way down. In addition, I’ve said that after about ten straight hours of editing, I've just about reached my daily limit.

Sadly, for me, this message has, and will continue, to fall on deaf ears.
It never ceases to amaze me how few people understand that a thorough edit cannot be done in the time period often allotted to editing. Those folks really do expect magic!

Red flags, storm warnings, and writings on the wall

One could conclude from reading want-ads language that many of them are cut from the same cloth; that there is some template out there used by most employers.

The same key words and phrases appear everywhere, whatever the industry. These words apparently reflect the qualities that employers seek in their employees.

Here are some that carry a message—a cautionary one—for job applicants, with my take on how a few of them impact editors.

Creative, persuasive editor: The writers (or authors and content developers) don't like their work reviewed or having to rewrite. They resist working with editors and resent author queries.

Flexibility, must be able to shift gears in this fast-paced environment: The environment is chaotic, unstructured, super-dynamic, and mismanaged. You will need to routinely work late hours and weekends as a result of the absence of viable systems and processes.

Immediate opening: This is a rarity at best. If the company is of any significant size, it will have a bureaucracy involved in recruitment, selection, and hiring. Don’t give up that temp or freelance gig just yet.

Professional work environment: If a company has to state what should be a given, it’s a dead giveaway that the company has problems.

Qualifications, “preferred” and “a plus”: Call them what you will, but these are requirements. Don’t apply without them, hoping for the best. There always will be applicants fitting the bill.

Sense of humor: You’re walking into a somber environment. If you have a sense of humor, you’ll be the odd man out.

Team player: Forget about having the final say. You’ll have responsibility without authority and will be micromanaged every step of the way. “We are a team” (or the variant, “We are a family”) is emphasized only when it suits the needs of management.

The interview question that probably cost me a job

It’s reasonable to expect editors to be grammar experts. After all, correct grammar usage is one cornerstone of good writing.

But like some teachers who know their subject but have trouble teaching it (i.e., they’re not good lecturers), there are editors who sometimes can’t explain grammar very well. There have been instances when I have had that problem. One such occasion probably sank my chances for a job I applied for.

After successfully navigating my way through the telephone-screening interview, I had my face-to-face interview with the person to whom I would report.

The interview proceeded without a hitch. And then I had a “deer in the headlights” moment. From out of the blue she asked, “What is a gerund?” (A gerund, I shall never forget, is a noun formed from a verb, e.g., “swimming.”)

I don’t remember my exact response. It was doubtless some attempt to finesse my momentary ignorance.

Lesson learned: Regardless of how good you can walk the walk, never underestimate the importance of also being able to talk the talk.

An exercise in futility

My manager has asked me to review and update the style guide for the Proposal Center.

Despite the fact that the guide resides in the template folder for every proposal in our content management system, I have seen very little evidence in my year with the company that any writers refer to it. And there has been no message—in any form—from the center manager to staff or contract proposal writers encouraging them to review it and to incorporate our style into their writing.

I have sent a number of style-related missives to several people who are responsible for managing the writers. Not one of them has ever even acknowledged receipt of those mini-guides.

I am going to resent every minute (and there will be many hundreds of them) I spend on this exercise in total futility. This will be a labor of love hate.

Your mileage may vary

Just as a great poem can conjure up an emotional response from the reader, so too can bad writing.

For me there are certain words, phrases, and expressions that make me see red. In some cases the offenders fine their way into a writing, I believe, simply because the writer is lazy and relies on some trite verbiage.

The increasingly popular your mileage may vary is one such case, as in this sentence I encountered today: "The savings estimates below are typical, but of course your mileage may vary; it all depends on what services you’re paying for now."

Given that "estimates" implies that the amount of savings varies, the use of "but of course your mileage may vary" is redundant.

Hyphens, Schmyphens

I've written about them before and doubtless will again. For they are troublesome little creatures for many writers.

I'm working on a manuscript whose author either missed the grammar lessons on punctuation marks or (as another author previously mentioned here) writes as if he's being paid by the hyphen; or both.

You know the weird dynamic that can occur when the more you look at a certain (correct) word, the more it looks wrong? Or when a repeated error begins to look correct? Such is the case with the profusion of unnecessary hyphens in this book. By unnecessary, I mean they appear in phrases that could be compound modifiers if followed by a noun. But they stand on their own in the book—in the company of their errant hyphens—and they appear so often that I've questioned my own knowledge. Some examples:

• guns-in-schools


• out-of-step


• computer-accessible


• after-the-fact


• metal-detector


• fellow-travelers


• around-the-bend


• true-believer


• less-than-comfortable


• face-to-face

I mentioned this to a colleague. He articulated the issue perfectly: "I recently worked on a book that was so full of hyphens I started to doubt my ability to reason out the phrases."

Drawing a line in the sand

Testing editor applicants is not limited to prospective employers (see "Testing, Testing, 1-2-3," below).

Several years ago, I sent the following letter to the president of an editing agency regarding its testing requirement.

"An Unsolicited Suggestion"

Dear XXX:

I am one of "the 3% who pass ABC tests." [The agency uses this figure in its marketing materials to tout the quality of its temps.] I have previously done successful temp work for a number of your clients, some of whom have requested me back.

I recently submitted my resume in response to your ad for technical editors. I just got off the phone with XXX who told me that, because I haven't done work for ABC in several years, I would have to be retested in order to be reinstated/considered. I told her that I am not willing to do that.

I have been working in the editorial field for almost 20 years, and my editing skills are even stronger today than when I worked with ABC. I find this policy quite literally unbelievable. As someone with extensive editorial experience, I don't have to tell you that the editing skill set is not lost over a period of time when it is in constant use. In fact, it is strengthened. (Please see attached resume.)

ABC is missing out on some significant talent by imposing this draconian requirement. It's bad enough that many employers impose an editing test on experienced professionals; they don't know any better. But for ABC to retest is an insult to our profession.

I would urge you to reconsider this policy out of respect for the professional achievements of those who have been associated with ABC and wish to return, willing and able to solidify your competitive position.

Testing, Testing, 1-2-3

For the most part—and to our endless chagrin—editors are not judged on the value we add to the writings we work on, through the errors we fix and other improvements we make.

No, our performance is assessed primarily on the mistakes we fail to correct. An editor can make hundreds of edits (literally thousands in a book-length work), but his overall contribution might be remembered for the one missing period he overlooked.

This approach to the performance appraisal of editors extends to, or more precisely begins at, the editing tests we are required to take when applying for jobs—regardless of how much experience we have.

How many other professions require a very experienced applicant to demonstrate his skills prior to employment? In the vast majority of cases, it is the resume—and the validation of it through reference checks and other means—that serves as proof of the applicant’s stated experience.

And to add to the unfairness of the testing requirement, editing tests generally are not administered on a computer, which would allow the editor to utilize two of the main tools of the trade—MS Word’s spell and grammar checkers.

Rather, the test involves working on hard copy only. In effect, editor applicants are handcuffed by editing “manually.” This doesn’t simulate the real world we’ll work in because it deprives us of critical resources that normally are at our disposal.

The A Team

This is another piece about the tendency in proposal writing to overcapitalize as a way to give added weight (i.e., importance and value) to certain words or terms. In this case, the culprit is Team.

Many of our proposal managers instruct their writers to uppercase Team when referring to our or the Team, in other words the group of people who will carry out the contract if it’s awarded to us. (Some writers keep that instruction in mind as they draft their work; others deal with it by running a global “search and replace” before submitting their work to me for editing.)

The managers do not, however, address how to treat the various forms that team can take in a proposal. As a result, I regularly see “the previous Team,” “the incumbent’s Team,” “a Teaming partner,” “the Teaming arrangement,” and so forth.

Obviously this wouldn’t even be an issue if common sense ruled the day. But then, what would I have to write about!

If it's Tuesday, I must be working for . . .

The company I work for has Systems in its name.

So, the possessive would be Systems' as you well know.

Staff and contract writers routinely submit material with, for example, "Bogus System's management approach . . ."

As the name implies, the company comprises multiple systems. And yet some of our writers would make it less so.

Editors: Up close and personal for the first time

New York City, 1972, 810 Seventh Ave. between 52nd and 53rd, taking the elevator up to my office.

Two guys (whose conversation suggested they were editors) were discussing some esoteric aspect of the use of a particular word.

I thought to myself, "These are the people who make a living dealing with this sort of thing."

Little did I know.

Acquisitions vs. Editorial: An irresistible force meets an immovable object

Within a publishing company, Acquisitions brings the work in, and Editorial makes it worthy of publication. Many acquired works trigger the inherent conflict between the two operations that always lurks in the shadows.

Acquisitions is all about signing an author and locking up his work—on occasion regardless of whether his submitted manuscript adheres to the submission requirements or the terms of the contract. When the company accepts an inferior manuscript, it ends up paying a premium for the work, in terms of the extra—often substantial—Editorial costs.

I am currently working on such a manuscript. The author is a lawyer and has structured almost 700 endnotes according to The Uniform System of Citation (also known as “The Blue Book”), the style guide for legal writers. He did not, as agreed, write the notes according to The Chicago Manual of Style.

As a result, I have to, for example, make the following types of changes throughout: Blue Book: Alfred E. Newman, Snap, Crackle, and Pop, 32 U. Pa. L. Rev. 107 (1994); Chicago: Alfred E. Newman, “Snap, Crackle, and Pop,” University of Pennsylvania Law Review (1994) 32:107. That, to an order of magnitude.

The immovable object often gets dislodged.

Confession I

The U.S. Air Force has been plagued by a multitude of problems in recent years—a drop in morale, security lapses, and ethics violations at the Academy, to name a few. Some observers claim this is attributable to many in the Air Force no longer believing in “the mission,” or more precisely the absence of a clear-cut mission for the Air Force post Cold War.

“What does this have to with editing?” you might ask. In a word, ennui.

There is a rule, somewhere, on how to treat every single element of a piece of writing. The editor, of course, is expected to ride shotgun to ensure that those rules aren’t broken. But like our flyboys and flygals—and every editor will admit this—sometimes we just couldn’t care less, particularly with regard to items that seem trivial at best.

Here are ten of my (least) favorites:

% or percent in text and in tables/charts

Bold, italics, or underlining for emphasis

Insert comma (or not) following city/state within a sentence (The voters of Denver, Colorado, have spoken.)

Em dash (—) or en dash ( – ) surrounded by a space to set off text

Hyphen or en dash to bridge numbers (1967-1970 or 1967–1970)

One or two spaces between sentences

One or two spaces following a colon

Possessive or not (GM shareholders or GM’s shareholders)

Punctuation of bulleted lists

The serial comma (red, white, and blue vs. red, white and blue)

As Ralph Waldo Emerson said, “A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds.” It certainly feels that way sometimes.

Anchors, Firefighters, and Other Gender Neutrals

Gender treatment in nonfiction is something writers have struggled with for decades now. On occasion, it has resulted in sentence construction that would do Rube Goldberg proud.

As writers dance around this particular thorn, two of their many partners are “his or her” and arguably the worst four characters ever put on a page: s/he.

Further, to avoid the wrath of those who would accuse authors of sexist writing, some writers include in their prefaces disclaimers such as, “All generic male references are intended to refer to females as well, and vice versa.”

From 2002 to 2007, I worked for an education company that developed a solution to this problem. The company's product is a complete online curriculum (every subject, K–12) for home schooling. The workaround to the “Dick or Jane” problem was to simply alternate male and female forms from lesson to lesson. It worked for both the curriculum developers and the customers, not to mention the editors.

I had not seen that style used again until this week, when I received a new book manuscript to edit. The author didn’t even bother with a disclaimer; he simply alternates the male and female from chapter to chapter.

This approach perfectly illustrates the maxim that when considering all possible options, the simplest one usually is best.

Winner: Worst Sentence of 2008

Their regular season record of 90-72 was in decline from those of the previous three seasons, but their post-season run was the best of any of those teams—with Baltimore and the Dodgers falling like Poland during the Blitzkrieg.

This one emerged as an early favorite and withstood the challenge of many strong contenders throughout the year. It's not that it's badly written. Rather, it takes the gold because it manages in just a handful of lines to demean, denigrate, and offend two Major League Baseball teams, two cities, one country, as well as everyone victimized by Hitler and Nazism—plus people who empathize with any of the preceding.

The insensitivity and stupidity of the author, as reflected in this year's winner, goes beyond the pale. (This is the same author cited in "A non sequitur," Dec. 18, below.)

For good measure, he threw in the following sentence, another viable candidate that deserves recognition: They were rarities in sports; excellent Jewish athletes.

FYI: I edited the winner as follows: " . . . with Baltimore and the Dodgers falling easily." And I simply deleted the "Jewish athletes" sentence. I did not query the author about either of my edits.

Code-Breaker

“Perpetua Titling MT,” Bugman offered with absolute certainty.

“Right again,” Spook #1 said to Spook #2 incredulously. “OK, Bugman, your run’s gotta end some time. Name this one, plus identify the one character that’s different.” He held up, with feigned confidence, page 78 of his morning briefing paper. “Desdemona and a single Haettenschweiler. Come on guys. Is that the best you can do?”

Bugman was a man on the top of his game. Well actually, it was the spy guys’ game. Every time they met the printing company’s only driver with a security clearance to sign for the weekly country reports, they challenged him to identify a type font in two seconds.

None of them could remember how this Friday diversion started. But, as Bugman proudly reminded them, “The streak is now officially 300 weeks. Or to put it another way, gents, Bugman 300, the CIA zero!”

As Bugman prepared to leave the loading dock area, #2 yelled after him, “If you ever get tired of driving that van, gimme a call. The Crypto crowd could take a guy with your talents and turn you into a real asset. And you’d make a few more bucks!”

That offer was made 10 years ago, and Bugman made the phone call that would change his life, and the agency, the very next day. Not even his Spooks could imagine the meteoric rise Bugman would achieve as he went on to become the star code-breaker and code-developer, push the encryption envelope beyond anyone’s imagination, and become a living legend at the Company.

Through all these years, Bugman has stayed in touch with his still-favorite Spooks. “Trebuchet MS, you numbskulls. And the score now stands at Bugman 750, you so-called spies approaching one.”

A Capital Idea

As you know, the purpose of a competitive proposal submitted to the federal government is to win a contract or grant.

The final decision by the federal department or agency in question usually rests upon the so-called differentiators, that is, those factors that make company A better qualified than company B, C, or D in the opinion of the proposal reviewers.

Many proposal writers think that capitalizing certain key words will "differentiate" their company and therefore increase their chance of success.

I once worked for a managing editor who said that good writing should stand on its own; that the words themselves "tell the story" and should not need to be "emphasized" by using bold or italics. For our purposes here, and putting aside names and proper nouns, over-capitalization is a form of emphasis and will not result in the federal government opening up its coffers.

I edit proposals for the government services division of an IT company. So the tendency of many of our proposal writers is to uppercase any and all words that relate to (1) our company's technical and management expertise and (2) the language of the request for proposal. As a result, terms such as information technology, information assurance, quality management, subject matter expert, root cause analysis, compliance verification, and hundreds more, are routinely uppercased.

If I had a nickel for every instance of unnecessary/improper capitalization that I've seen just in 2008, I could be a federal bailout program unto myself!

Track Changes I

“The author doesn’t even want a hyphen touched.” “She’s published many books with us and doesn’t like her writing changed at all.” “Don’t make changes. Query everything.”

These and similar comments from acquisition editors often are included in the Manuscript Transmittal Form—the “marching orders” for the manuscript editor. They are not not to be taken literally; sprinkle the MTF with a grain of salt. Yes, editors must occasionally "switch gears" to accommodate (within reason) certain authors, while at the same time ensuring that the house editorial style is maintained, particularly in terms of formatting. Not all edits, however, are created equal. Take a look at this page:



Despite what the MTF might say, authors do not need to see format changes splattered all the way down the right side of every page, as above. It’s time consuming and distracting, perhaps resulting in the author missing important items tracked (such as author queries), requested approval for what the author might consider a substantive change, or a suggested rewrite/change.

In short, pages like the one above draw attention away from what's important and could give the author the impression that the editor has ignored the level of effort dictated by the MTF. They can, quite literally, have the author seeing red!

Style up the wazoo

Google maps is an example of “more is better.” Superimpose traffic and satellite images onto a regular map and you've really got something.

The same cannot be said about the profusion of style manuals at the editor's disposal—disposal being the operative word for many editors.

When an editor begins his first job, he might be expected to apply AP, GPO, AMA, or the Chicago style manual. Simple. Just learn one set of style rules and edit accordingly.

Subsequent jobs, however, will have different house styles, based on another style manual or a hybrid style derived from a particular manual (or manuals) plus house/writer/editor preferences.

Eventually, and with more and more experience, most editors want to simply cobble together their own approach to style, drawing on what they consider the best of what they've previously used, as well as their personal preferences.

Attempting to keep track of the countless—and often nonsensical—differences among style manuals can reduce even seasoned editors to bumbling novices, trying to remember where at the moment they’re working.

Exxon: For he’s a jolly, good fellow.

Notwithstanding the extensive discussion in legal writing and case law debating the question of corporations as “persons,” for purposes of virtually all writing a company, organization, agency, and so forth, is not “treated” as a person.

Therefore, you would write, Exxon claims that its [not “their”] profits should not be subject to a windfall profits tax.

This is one of my pet peeves, that is, it involves an edit that I will never fail to make.

A trade secret: All editors have their lists of unforgivable transgressions, which are not technically wrong. Without naming names, I know an editor who always changes towards to toward. Imagine that!

A non sequitur

About halfway through a 200-page book I edited on the 1962 baseball season, the following came straight out of left field like a Roger Clemens fastball:

I started worshiping The Holy Bible instead [of the Baseball Almanac], directing my admiration not for Mickey Mantle or Willie Mays or Don Drysdale, but for the Lord Jesus Christ.

"Huh?" I thought. The author, in the midst of putting his baseball opus together, apparently had a religious or spiritual moment. Or perhaps those words represented some sort of confession. I let it pass without a query.

Forgive him Father, for he has sinned.

Excuse me, Ivan, but I think you've got it wrong.

Editing the work of writers from other countries presents interesting challenges.

Sure, there is the inherent minefield of language errors. But the areas that have prompted the most author queries from me relate to the different culture, politics, history, and even anti-American orientation of the writers.

I recently edited a book by a Russian author and academic (working in the United States) on the closest presidential elections in U.S. history.

I more than earned my pay on the book, just in terms of the number of queries I posed to the author. Here are just two, directed at the following passages:

Conspiracy theories about the origins of September 11 and the Bush administration’s involvement in the terrorist acts are not plausible enough to consider them seriously here. What I wrote: "There are many who would disagree with your opinion. Please consider revision." What I felt like writing: "We here in the U.S. are not afraid to question the actions or authority of our political leaders."

Historically, the United States has a weak party system. What I wrote: "I believe that many readers of American history might reach a different conclusion." What I felt like writing: "Maybe our political parties don't have the power of the Communist Party, but they've served us well."

Editors have to exercise many forms of restraint, including the expression of judgments as well as personal politics and values.

A complete absence of punctuation and capitalization

I once worked as a copyeditor for a DC law firm that had a partnership arrangement with a London law practice. We would occasionally proof work from the across the Pond.

Aside from the front and back matter, the body of the documents contained no punctuation or capitalization whatsoever. I don't know if the documents reflected British legal document style at the time, but I do know it was the easiest proofreading I've ever done.

Even though at times the absence of punctuation made it tough to decipher syntax, the only thing we had to look for was typos. Just imagine the ease with which you could fly through text if P&C were not a consideration.

every once in a while when im struggling with some fine point of editing such as whether to use em dashes or parentheses or the difference between that and which i think back fondly on my english editing experience those brits came up with a style i could easily live with finally id say that at least one little corner of london at one point in time represented the notion that the sun never sets on the british empire

Caution: Radar Ahead

Emailing and text messaging, as you know, gets the word out quickly. Not so when editors hit the keyboard, especially when we get in touch with our peers. Before we hit send, we feel compelled to S—L—O—W . . . D—O—W—N.

Have we spell-checked? Formatting OK? Grammar up to snuff? Syntax sparkling?

God forbid any of our written communiques contain an error! How harshly we'll be judged.

Everybody else speeds along carefree in their Ferraris, while we in our Yugos can only dream of approaching the speed limit.

"Editorial": A Mnemonic

The best editors and editorial operations are characterized by the following:

Ego: Check it at the door—the writer gets top billing.

Diplomacy: Writers and editors—the twain must meet.

Implications: What is the context within which the writing exists?

Technical: Mastery of hardware, software, and editorial consistency is in place.

Ownership: Editing is "anonymous" and in the background.

Restraint: No over-editing; quality, not quantity, spells success.

Information: New content/information is quickly assimilated.

Adaptable: Shift gears regarding author preferences, priorities, contexts, and styles.

Lean: Economy and efficiency reign—maximum production with minimum effort.

Bulleted lists: Let's agree to disagree.

In my twenty-five years of working as an editor, no style issue even comes close to being as contentious among editorial staff as how to treat bulleted lists. This is one of those areas where there is no right or wrong answer; it's just a matter of deciding how to do it, and then ensuring that it is done consistently.

Solo editors don't have to grapple with this; each can unilaterally decide for himself. The problem arises when a group of editors—responsible for style consistency across an entire product line—tries to reach consensus on this question.

The possibilities are as varied as the opinions of editors on this question: initial cap or not? closing punctuation or not for each item? closing punctuation only if a sentence? And so forth ad nauseum.

I had a job where this issue was debated at every editorial staff meeting for a year! Honestly. At the risk of being sanctioned, or worse, I finally announced that I would no longer remain in meetings that rehashed this issue. Before I left, I proposed (again) the only viable solution that I had seen in my experience, one that all editors could remember and didn't involve exceptions to the rule or any decision making: every bulleted item starts with a capital letter and has no closing punctuation mark. And I repeated my plea to the editorial manager: Just make an executive decision on this and establish a rule. He never did, and I wouldn't be surprised if that discussion is on this week's meeting agenda.

What gives life to endless discussions as the above (aside from poor management), are two off-putting traits of many editors: the belief that they are always right, and the love of discussing the esoterica of editing. But that's a story for another day.

Le mot juste: Spell-checking has its limits.

Many writers and inexperienced editors put too much faith in Word's spell-checking function. Yes, it can catch typos, but it doesn't replace reading every word carefully. Let's assume that President Lincoln's editor had relied exclusively on spell-checking when he edited the Gettysburg Address.

Fore scour and heaven years ago hour fathers brought fourth, upon this continent, a gnu nation, conceived inn libertine and desiccated to the position that awl women are created equally.

Now wee are engaged in a grate civility war, testing weather this nay shun, ore any nay shin sew conceived an sow dedicated, can long in doer. We are mete on a great bottle feel of that whore. We halve come to dead uh gait a pour shun of it, as a final wresting plaice four those who dyed hear, that the nation mite love. This we May, in all property dew. Butt inn a lager cents, we can knot dedicate, wee kin not consecrate, we cannot hail low, this ground. The braver men, living undead, who struggled herein, haven’t hallowed it, far above our pour powers too ad or subtract. The whirls will little note, nor long dismember what we say hear; while it cannot never forge watt they did here.

It is rather for U.S. the live in, wee here bee dedication to the great tusk remaindering before us—that from this on her dead we takes in creased devolution to that cause for witch they hear grave the last foal measure of devotion—that we heard high lea resolve that these dead shall knot have dyed invade, that this nation shall halve a new berth of free dome, and that governmental of the pea pull, buy the people, fore the pee pull shill knot pear itch from the earth.

Keys to the Kingdom

“Version control” refers to a system designed to control access to edited documents to ensure that only editors can make changes to them as they move toward finalization. This is usually done through limiting access rights to the online file management system. In other words, once files reach a certain point in the production process, version control ensures that writers can’t go back into a file and screw it up by introducing any of a variety of errors.

An analogy would be to put former Wall Street executives in charge of the current federal financial bailout effort; you know, like the fox guarding the hen house. Such is the case in my office.

Despite ongoing protestations from my co-workers and me, our manager will not enforce the much-needed version control by restricting access rights for anyone above her in the company hierarchy. This includes several VPs and senior VPs who also function as proposal writers. The result is that my editing is regularly nullified, and proposals go out the door with multiple errors that were introduced post-editing.

The absence of effective version control is one reason why many editors retain copies of every file they work on. CYA!

Get 'em while they're hot!

The economy is tanking, and stock can be bought for bargain basement prices. In the swirl of economic news, however, I somehow have missed the fact that there’s a fire sale on hyphens.

Or so it would seem, based on the last two books I’ve edited. The authors write as if they’re being paid by the hyphen (e.g., inter-national: yikes; the mid-west: oh c’mon).

I have never seen a punctuation mark so abused.

Gobbledygook

To paraphrase William Wordsworth, editing is too much with me.

I've been freelance editing a book for what seems like 24x7 for several weeks, as I face a Tuesday deadline for submission of the files to the publisher. At the same time, proposal editing on my regular job is intense, with three proposals shipping out before Xmas.

It's no wonder, then, that editing has crept into my dream world. I woke up this morning recalling a short dream I had last night, the meaning of which is fairly obvious.

I had wrapped up all but one file (of about twenty). It was a short one, just a couple of pages. Most of it was unintelligible. It was in English, but it was quite literally nonsense. Its meaning—heads, subheads, text—was not decipherable. I couldn't figure out how to do the HTML coding, and any attempt to edit the text was futile.

Like I said at the top, too much editing.

Lazy

I'm editing a new book by one of America's top intellectuals.

He has, among other things, founded a think tank; been a professor at Columbia, George Washington, and Harvard; served as a guest scholar at the Brookings Institution and a White House advisor; and published more than 20 books.

The book deals with many of the current geopolitical and sociopolitical issues faced by the United States, Europe, and the Middle East. While some of the material is new and was written for the book, the author to a large extent drew on his past writings.

As a result, the book is woefully out of date with regard to Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan, Pakistan, the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, the global financial crisis, and the 2008 U.S. presidential campaign and election.

In addition, the rampant inconsistencies in style, and the structure of endnotes and references, suggests that the book was cobbled together by perhaps a grad student.

The author will not be pleased by the number of queries he will face when he receives the edited manuscript.

But when an author recycles past work and tries to rest on his laurels, the editor stands between him and the reading public who expect a book that reflects the author's expertise.

Edit of the Week

Most proposals include a section entitled something like "Key Personnel" or "Resumes" that summarizes the qualifications of the people who will carry out the contract if it is awarded to the bidder.

As you know, the present tense is used to describe one's current position; the past tense for previous experience.

Thus, today I would lead a team; yesterday I led a team.

This past week's proposal work saw countless examples of people who sort of went back to the future.

Haiku: Critical

Editors find fault
Nonstop forty hours a week.
It’s tough being right.

Acronyms: The Bane of My Existence

The most time consuming (that is, by time spent on each page) aspect of proposal editing is ensuring that errors related to acronym usage are corrected. This involves spelling out terms on first usage, looking up those I don’t know, and flagging the rest for the writers. And IT proposals have loads of acronyms.

A while back I summarized, in writing, guidelines for the writers on one particular proposal that explained how to deal with acronyms as they moved ahead with their writing. I gave the guidelines to the proposal coordinator and suggested that she distribute them to every person working on that proposal. Based on their work, either she didn’t provide the guidelines or the writers ignored them.

I’m working on another proposal that is equally horrendous with regard to acronyms. I didn’t bother to ask her if she provided the guidelines to the current group of writers, but I did suggest to her that from now on, every writer on every proposal should receive my guidelines.

It’s like talking to the wall, against which I feel like banging my head.

The insecure desktop publishing specialist

I edit proposals for an IT company. When I finish a document, it’s handed off to desktop publishing for final layout and formatting.

One of the DTP specialists periodically points out to a supervisor something that I missed, without telling me. Rather than just make the correction (and do me the courtesy of letting me know), she feels compelled to promote herself at my expense. I find out about this through the informed supervisor.

Editing is the most hapless, thankless profession. We are judged almost exclusively by our mistakes.