WHAT DO I DO?
PROOFREADING
Of course I’m going to tell you I’m eagle-eyed, energetic and reliable, but I’ve been doing this for twenty years, so can we just take that as read?
I mean, who in their right mind wouldn’t want to spend all day reading books? But the difference between the person who simply enjoys reading and the professional proofreader is that the proofreader never drops off. In addition, I have a partner who gets vocally fed up with me pointing out every little typo in the subtitles of the latest Walter Presents series on TV. To quote Michael Caine as Jack Carter just before he gives Alf Roberts’ Cliff Bumbry a smack in Get Carter (1970): “You’re a big man but you’re out of shape. With me it’s a full-time job. Now sit down and behave yourself.”
Put it this way: I’m serious but not solemn. Just because this might be months of your blood, sweat and tears we’re talking about, doesn’t mean we can’t have a laugh while we polish it to perfection, right?
COPY EDITING
The copy editor isn’t just checking for typos, they are engaging with the text on a deeper level. What does that mean? Well, look again at the reference to Get Carter above. It reads okay but in fact it contains five mistakes that the alert copy editor should correct. This is how it would look with Track Changes:
It’s probably the most famous line in the film, but I still checked the scene again to make sure I got it right. That should tell you something. Another thing: a lot of people remember the line as, “You’re a big man but you’re out of shape,” but this is not so good, because I hope you’ll agree with me this version loses the perfect balance and rhythm and consonance of Mike Hodges’ iconic original. And I hope that tells you something else as well.
In copy editing, as I see it, every word, every phrase, every paragraph must pass the ARC test. In other words, is it:
A - APPROPRIATE? (Does it fit with the tone of the text? Is it the right level of language? Is it in the right place?)
R - RELEVANT? (Does it speak to the moment? If not, could it be removed and slotted in somewhere else? Do we even need it at all?)
C - CORRECT? (Is it spelt right? Is it factually accurate? Is it clear and unambiguous?)
If the answer to any of these questions is no, then I use Track Changes to correct the text, or add a little query box in the margin, maybe suggesting a rewrite or a workaround. The author then has the option to either accept my advice or stick with their original. (Nothing of what I do is prescriptive; the final text is always the author’s own work, their choices, their decisions.)
SO WHY CHOOSE ME?
Because I keep Excel sheets.
To my mind, thoroughness and consistency are the key, and when you get the details right, subliminally your reader begins to trust you. On the other hand, if the heroine flicks a fluffy blonde curl out of her eyes on page seven and then on page fifty-five suddenly bemoans the fact that her beautiful black locks have been ruined by the rain, the reader’s first reaction is to do a double take. They will suddenly have to rethink their entire mental image of that character. And if they can’t trust you on that, what other lies might you have told them? At which point it’s “game over, man” (Private [Bill Paxton] Hudson, Aliens, 1986).
But not if I have anything to do with it. Each new project I take on starts with an Excel sheet, or series of sheets. It’s on these sheets that I build up a comprehensive map of your book as I work, starting with a list of Chapters, their titles and what page number each starts on. You’d be surprised how many authors, during the editing process, decide to delete a chapter here or there but neglect to update the numbering. Can’t fool me, I’ve got it all down here on my Excel sheet in black and – well, a restful shade of creamy taupe, as it happens.
Next up comes Characters (singular verb for the single sheet on which is inscribed a list entitled ‘Characters’). Every character who is name-checked in your book gets recorded on my Excel sheet, along with any useful details we may learn along the way like height, age, hair colour (see above), distinguishing features, salient biographical facts, and so on. And it’s amazing how often an author will just jot down the first name they can think of as a placeholder for a minor walk-on and then forget to update it. My record so far, I think, has been five Georges in one novel, all different characters but each sharing the same name. Coincidences like that happen often enough in life, but in art they can only confuse the issue. And it’s not as if we haven’t got an infinite number of names to choose from, is it?
And finally we have Consistency, which is a straightforward alphabetical record of individual words which may have viable alternative spellings but which we want to make sure appear the same each time they recur throughout our text. Is it straightaway or straight away or even straight-away? (Hint: it is not straight-away.) Is it wellbeing or well-being? (Collins says it’s one, OUP says it’s the other.) How do you space the text around an ellipsis – is it text…text? Or is it text… text? Or should it be text … text? What does the author prefer? Which do you prefer? If there is leeway, and as long as your usage isn’t plumb wrong, then I’ll go with you. You’re paying me after all.
In addition, while I am fluent in both British English (BrE) and American (AmE), my degree in Modern Languages (French and German) means I can also make sure any phrases you may wish to insert from those languages will be pristine and correctly accented. Even in English texts, I am a fan of diacritics, not just because they look classy, but because they modify the pronunciation of the word, whether you’re aware of it or not. For instance, one of my favourite bêtes noires (see what I did there?) is the Nazi general who has the haughty sneer of Teutonic superiority down to a T, but then goes and kippers his whole characterisation by addressing a woman as ‘frawline’. Phonetically it is, was, and always must be Fräulein (pronounced FROY-LYNE) – derived from Frau (woman), it should be capitalised like all German nouns, and the -lein suffix indicates the diminutive, aided by the addition of the a+umlaut (ä) which modifies the sound of the vowel. (I also like a bit of Italian, BTW, and I can recognise Spanish when I see it.)
Finally, I am fast. By the time you get to the stage of thinking about having your work copy edited, you’ve probably been sweating over it for months if not years, and now you just want to see the thing out there. So I’m not going to hold you up. Most books take me no more than seven to ten days to complete.
Over twenty years' experience
I’ve stared helplessly at a few blank pages in my time as well. Here are some examples of what I managed to come up with eventually.