Thursday, January 14, 2010

Even Editors Need Editors: Find the Golden Nugget

The hardest thing about being an editor is the perceived "perfection" that you can surround yourself with. "Oh dear, faulty parallelism -- we couldn't say that!" Or, "Let me introduce your subject to your verb. Hmmm... like two mismatched socks. You just can't say, 'We needs to go to the store.' "

It is expected an editor will be perfect, even when the "rules" are unclear. I received two emails yesterday from editors that I admire. One was from an editor who was looking for the verb of surveillance, "I can't beleive," she wrote, "that the only word I came up with was surveilling. When I figured it out, I started to laugh. Now everyone who sits near me thinks I'm mad."

The other was from an English editor working for a big firm in Florida. He had used the word medalist (the American spelling) instead of medallist (the UK/Canada spelling). I emailed him and asked for the change and he said, "I'm so embarassed, particulary because I sent it to you. Would it help if I said someone else at least wrote it!"

It's our job to find mistakes. Period. We get paid good money to save people from their own words.

The more editing I do however, the harder I find it to write anything. I set up this blog almost two years ago and I have only written four entries. I'm scared that I'll make an error that a client will spot and not hire me.

But I remind myself that while I do deliver high quality of work to my clients, I have to allow myself to make mistakes in my first drafts. It is hardest to edit yourself. As a writer, you write the words you hear in your head (see my post An Editorial Metaphor: Amputated Fingers and All). So when you read your own text, it makes perfect sense. When I read my own work as an editor, it is hard to focus on the words and not the broader issues. I know what I meant.

So if you find mistakes in this or any post, I apologize. This is me as a writer. Like you, I need an editor sometimes. I hope I'll re-read it next week and find the error, but maybe not. I had a boss once who wanted to change something in every document -- so sometimes we would insert an error for him to find so that he would leave the rest of the text alone. We called it the "nugget", so when you find a mistake, consider that you've found the golden nugget.

Thursday, January 7, 2010

An Editing Metaphor -- Amputated Fingers and All

Try this experiment. Go up to someone you know and tell them you are going to tap a tune and ask them to guess what it is.

With your fingers, tap out the most recognizable song you know. Try "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" or "Jingle Bells." Chances are the listener won't guess the tune and you'll be left wondering how they could be so deaf to something so obvious. This is a great metaphor for editing and communication from Made to Stick by Chip and Dan Heath

The reason for your listener's confusion is clear -- when you tap, you can hear the music in your head. All your listener hears is random sounds and pauses. It's the same principle with most communication.

My job as an editor is to figure out what your fingers have been tapping on the keyboard and making sure your reader hears your tune. I'm not the grammar police. I'm not Little Miss Chicago Manual of Style. I'm the translator between your thoughts, your words and your readers.

To do this well, I need to understand what your audience expects. Often the difference between my understanding and the writer's understanding is the source of great discussion. So the choices that are made in spelling, grammar and style can be different for every assignment. There is a time and space for each of:
  • U R Gr8
  • You're great 
  • You are great.
In the same way, if you tapped out a traditional German song like Alle Meine Entchen to a Canadian, it's likely, even if you sang every word, they wouldn't recognize the tune or be able to name the song. The editor is the voice of the reader. I think we have a responsibility to tune in and use terms a reader will understand and not be stuck in a rut of what's grammatically "right" or "wrong".

An editor also has to figure out what the writer is trying to say. This sounds obvious, but it's easy to send things back to a writer and ask them, "What do you mean by this?" Sometimes sending a text back is the right answer -- but most of time, after careful thought, an editor can figure out what was meant and can send it back with a note asking, "Is this what you mean?"

A great example of this was a sentence I edited last week that said something like, "On her lap were her two amputated fingers." Ewwww.... After a bit of reading in context it became clear that far from being the victim of a rogue food processor, the woman in question only had three fingers left on her hand. We found a much nicer, gentler way of describing her missing digits while still acknowledging they were missing.

So tap, tap, tap -- what do editors do? We help writers take the tune from their head and make it into real music.

Saturday, December 19, 2009

Why Editors are Different from Ikea

Have you ever seen anyone willingly use a self-serve cash register?

Ok, sometimes people do go through the line apprehensively and check out their own items while a fresh-faced high school student in a vest watches them to make sure they don't steal anything.

But have you ever seen someone leave a self-serve checkout with a smile on their face?

Here's an example. I like Ikea. My dishes come from Ikea, heck for a long time most of my furniture came from Ikea. But the Richmond store has put into place two banks of self-serve registers and cut down on their checkout people.

I know many people hate self serve terminals, feeling that the company is making the customer's life harder and their own easier. I know people resent that they may be taking away jobs from well-deserving, underpaid cashiers.
 
But, late one night and suckered in by the "short" line at Ikea we decided to skip the long regular lines and try it out. "It will be easy, just like when I was a cashier," I promised my husband.
It was hard. The scanner didn't scan easily and the high-schooler in a blue vest kept popping over and giving directions anytime I looked at the screen and distracted me. We watched as the people who would have been behind us in the cashier line laughed and walked out. With a smile.

You may notice that Ikea doesn't provide free plastic bags anymore. And no more tissue paper. Something they could have warned us about before we got in line with our new dishes. But even worse, we couldn't even ask for some to purchase because there was no one to help us. The high schooler shrugged her shoulders. Their "tell us what you think" kiosk was out of service.

We watched the people in the self-serve line puzzle and think and try to scan their goods. It reminded me why, when I was a cashier, I was a great cashier. The rules were easy:
  1. Smile at your customer
  2. Make sure their needs were met
  3. Process their order quickly and accurately
  4. Smile and wish them a great day
None of these can take place with a self-serve register. Even processing the order quickly takes longer. I don't know where the price tags are, or the trick to make the scanning gun scan.

It got me thinking about editing. With the invention of "spell-check" it is harder to sell the services of an editor to someone who hasn't used one and doesn't understand what an editor does. Just as a cashier doesn't just scan your purchase and take your money, an editor also adds value.

I help people feel confident in what they have written. I find ways to express ideas more clearly and more professionally. I often catch factual errors. Last week, I corrected a text that claimed Mahatma Ghandi was the first prime minister of India (not true). I make sure we don't call First Nations "indians" or use other unintentional derogatory terms. I help people clarify their ideas. Working for a company, I make sure that our processes are followed and that we don't send privacy complaints to reception rather than the Privacy Officer. In layout, I catch positioning errors and I make text fit in a way that no computer program ever could.

Even after leaving retail, I still have the retail values drilled into me. I still believe that you should smile and make life easier for your client. I still try to process work as quickly and accurately as possible. I still make sure my client's needs are met. Unlike Ikea, I want my clients to leave with a smile -- every time.

So in 50 years, you can read this and reflect whether computers have taken over retail and whether editors still exist. I think, that while there is room for technology to improve both fields, there will always be room to give your client a smile. And that's what I do.

Saturday, October 18, 2008

Why communicators need style guides

I'm moving back to my editing roots in a new job and a bit away from the field of communications. The two professions have so much to learn from each other.

Communicators need to learn the value of things like style guides. As an industry, communications needs best practices and guidelines on what ought to happen. Editing is a process with very specific goals and terms, something that is missing for many communications projects.

Editors need to learn how to link into the bigger picture. Editors need to remember to get out of their publication or project and make sure they are going in the same direction as their audience and client.

Both industries have some people who would argue that they have best practices or see the bigger picture. But there needs to be more than just a few shining examples. I hope I can, in some way, lead the two professions to a closer understanding.

I love editing. I love making things better for my clients. I think that editing is a high and invisible art form. I love taking a bunch of words and ideas scattered on a page and combing them into place until they make a masterpiece.

It's been over a year since I've done straight editing and it's great. I feel a bit like a USB stick, I've been plugged in and I know what to do. Part of my confidence has to do with the style guide.

When I interviewed for this job they showed me their new style guide. For an editor, a style guide is like a bible. But better than a bible, any publication or organization can and should write their own. They make working at an organization, particularly as an editor, wonderful.

So many communications shops don't bother making any sort of style guide and rely on CP Style. This is a mistake. Style guides help record answers to commonly debated questions.

Here's an example. In one story we write "Sally Jones, Executive Vice President" and in another we write "Sally Jones, executive vp." It seems like a small thing but it begins to create inconsistency. Humans naturally pick up on inconsistencies and are uncomfortable with it. That's why we don't trust people with hairpieces. Why make your staff uncomfortable or unsure of how to write something?

If we create a style guide we have the answer to the question. We know that we spell out a full title with capitals and we almost don't have to think. You don't need to remember or go back and check what you did last time or ask other people. The organization has made a decision and you just need to follow it.

The best part is that unlike a bible, you can change the style guide. You can decide that serial commas (editing, writing, and public speaking) are redundant and out of fashion. So you can change your style guide and from that point on, no one uses serial commas. Voila, consistency!

Style guides offer more than just grammatical answers. They can record key messages for an organization. For example, "We are a titanium widget company that specializes in titanium widget design and manufacture. We don't work with gadgets, trigots, or widbets. We always refer to titanium widgets in first mention of our product."

So a new person coming into the company doesn't have to guess if they write a press release. They know that you make titanium widgets, there's no questions.

Even if CP answers many style questions, some of their solutions feel funny and out of date. They don't fit every industry or corporate culture. Using CP as a start and then creating your own tweaks gives you an invaluable resource that lets everyone in your organization write better and more consistently.

Saturday, October 20, 2007

Getting inspired

The thing I love most about writing conferences and writing classes is the feeling that I can actually do this this. I can actually write something and get it published. This weekend I've been at the Surrey International Writers' Conference. It's all about how to be a writer, how to sell your work, and how to make your work better.

It amazes and excites me and sometimes leaves me with a feeling of absolute responsibility. I have to tell you about Olga's daughter and the story about the two brothers in the forest. I have a responsibility to record the events of Browns Farm Equipment and Supply.

It makes me want to quit my job and sit in a room drinking cups of hot tea and writing best selling novels. The SIWC does that to you.

And I know not everyone makes the dream and I know most people never actually get anywhere near the dream. But it's the same reason we buy lottery tickets, because we like to dream.

All 800 people in the room have the same goals, get published, get respected for the work they do. Will they all accomplish it? No.

Will many of them come back year after year, barely another short story written? Yes.

Will some of them make fantastic book deals and meet agents who want to reprsent them and take them to fame and fortune? Yes.

Do I expect either of these things? Not really. In a way I'm searching for the same thing everyone on American Idol looks for. I'm looking for someone to tell me I'm good. To tell me that my work doesn't stink.

I'm looking for someone to give me the magic potion that makes my life go on as it is and a book to magically appear in six months with hardly any more thought than I give to doing my laundry.

Truth is, and I know it, the truth is, writing is bum in seat work. No bum in seat, no hands on the keyboard, no novel. It's where I struggle with blogging -- do I spend my time writing something I can publish online in five minutes and maybe six people will read OR do I write something that matters to a huge group of people that will take me years and may never see daylight?

Tick tock tick tock... It is a choice of course and there are some bloggers who have become rich and famous by blogging. But something in my wants to go to the shelf and pull down my book. I want to sit on the bus and watch you read my book and not know, not even guess that the author is sitting right across from you.