When I was an eager college freshman, an admired professor of rhetoric looked over her spectacles and marked me for life. “You have talent,” she said, “but you didn’t have second grade phonics, did you?” Sigh. I didn’t. I had to look up what she meant. I lacked a certain fundamental understanding of English as a written language. I could never be an editor—or at least, with absolute certainty, a copy editor. Why?
- I don’t see words. Love of reading, college demands, busy lifestyle, or perhaps just a natural bent lead me to digest prose in big chunks. I read sentences and paragraphs in big gulps. I inhale prose. If I’m in a room and there is any printed text showing, I’ve read it. Covers of books lying around, scraps of paper, greeting cards, words on wallpaper, signatures on paintings: I can’t screen any of it out. But don’t ask me to parse out word by word or letter by letter. I hear words, so rough, through, and though are, well different. And that’s just the easy example. It gets worse.
- I never met a comma I got along with. I get pauses. Pauses add to the music of spoken English. Why would you put a comma where you wouldn’t pause, I ask? Worse, why would you not put one where you want to add a pause, dramatic or otherwise? Yes, I know there are rules. I even understand them. Editors have given me many lovely books on the subject. I get the difference between The Panda Eats, Shoots, and Leaves*** and the same words with no commas, so I know they are important. I just don’t worry about them when I’m reading or remember to use them when the words are flowing. I have to grunt my way through corrections before I send the doc off to an editor who will send it back with 6,000 comma corrections. The exception is the Oxford one. I love my Oxford comma.
- The devil is in the details. I have learned to notice passive voice, misplaced modifiers, and clumsy sentence structure. Consistency, however, does not come naturally. Is it “Yes, Sir!” or “Yes, sir!” An editor says, choose one and be consistent. Oops. Spelling doesn’t come easily either. I’ve been known to spell the same word two or three different ways one one page. Spell checkers help somewhat, but not entirely.
Here is my Monday confession: I’m not a writer, I’m a storyteller imprisoned on the printed page. Luckily there are editors. Today I’m grateful above all for Jude Knight and for Tamus Bairen at Soul Mate Publishing. I am in awe of their skill.
So I’m off to another day of spitting out prose, rereading, correcting, and hoping I catch all the violations of good written English. I know full well I won’t.
But first, coffee!
***A lovely book. I highly recommend it.