Seattle Zack
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- Joined
- Aug 29, 2003
- Posts
- 1,128
Last week, the honorable James Kilpatrick opined about the art of copy editing. As a content writer and technical editor for a large website, I enjoyed his observations.
The Writer's Art:
Editor's Memo to Writers: Re-Read What You Have, uh, Wrote
by James Kilpatrick
A contributor to the South Bend (Ind.) Tribune had something to say last year about draft-dodging in the 1960s. His commentary began: "All this worry about George W. Bush's 'goings on' during the Vietnam war is a can of worms that the Republicans tried to crucify Clinton with that now has come back to bite them."
Now, that sentence offers a splendid example of what is known in the writing trade as a mixed metaphor. It is not often that Republicans are bitten by a can of worms, especially by worms bent upon crucifying a president. How did this syntactical goulash get into print? It is because the writer did not read his copy critically before sending it off for publication.
Let's hear a cheer for the art of copy editing! Too many writers, sad to say, type a first draft, hit the "send" command, and let their pearls of wisdom go unstringed. I'm talking not only about newspapers, but also about novelists, magazine writers, speechwriters, letter writers -- the whole caboodle.
For example, several years ago a trade publication, Fresh Cup, had something to say about tea. It was interesting: "Tea is no longer a stepsister to coffee, but has blossomed of its own accord into a swan."
Two months ago U.S. News & World Report carried a piece on class consciousness. We learned -- pay attention! -- that "All poor students, after all, are not minorities, and all minorities are not poor." What the writer meant, we may charitably suppose, was that not all poor students are minorities, and not all minority students are poor. Let us read our copy!
Back in January, a writer for The Associated Press wrote a dispatch from Cleveland: "Legal documents compiled in a new book Polish officials say support their ownership claim to drawings by Renaissance master Albrecht Durer that were looted by the Nazis during World War II." Fellow writers! That little squiggle on the bottom row of the keyboard is called a "comma." Let us insert a comma after "book," and another comma after "say," and behold! We don't yet have a good sentence, but copy editing has made it a better sentence.
Six months ago USA Today carried an obituary on actor Jerry Orbach, a fellow much loved by fans of "Law & Order." His producer offered a tribute that came from the heart: "His loss is irreplaceable." The sentiment was well-intended, but the sentence stumbled. That was the problem last November in an Australian newsletter dealing in foreign exchange. Some unit of currency had closed at 0.7736. "Nothing looks like stopping it from hitting the magic 0.8000 mark at some stage before the end of the year or sooner." Makes you want to buy now.
As every professional writer knows, some sentences just come out wrong. In Mount Airy, N.C., the news editor of the local News wrote a column about taxing tobacco. He was against it. Indeed, he was against smoking in general. "I strongly advise anyone who doesn't smoke to ever start." Although he is unable to shake the habit, he has sympathy "for people who truly have adverse reactions to smoke or to children." Well, to some children.
Even The New York Times stumbles. A year ago critic A.O. Scott discussed the movie "King Arthur." He said: "David Franzoni, the screenwriter, also wrote 'Gladiator,' and Clive Owen's Arthur, like Russell Crowe's Maximus, both faithfully serves the Roman empire and turns against its authoritarian abuses."
Somewhere in that sentence was an idea struggling to get out.
Let us read our copy, read our copy, read our copy! And if we're not on deadline, read our copy once again.
The Writer's Art:
Editor's Memo to Writers: Re-Read What You Have, uh, Wrote
by James Kilpatrick
A contributor to the South Bend (Ind.) Tribune had something to say last year about draft-dodging in the 1960s. His commentary began: "All this worry about George W. Bush's 'goings on' during the Vietnam war is a can of worms that the Republicans tried to crucify Clinton with that now has come back to bite them."
Now, that sentence offers a splendid example of what is known in the writing trade as a mixed metaphor. It is not often that Republicans are bitten by a can of worms, especially by worms bent upon crucifying a president. How did this syntactical goulash get into print? It is because the writer did not read his copy critically before sending it off for publication.
Let's hear a cheer for the art of copy editing! Too many writers, sad to say, type a first draft, hit the "send" command, and let their pearls of wisdom go unstringed. I'm talking not only about newspapers, but also about novelists, magazine writers, speechwriters, letter writers -- the whole caboodle.
For example, several years ago a trade publication, Fresh Cup, had something to say about tea. It was interesting: "Tea is no longer a stepsister to coffee, but has blossomed of its own accord into a swan."
Two months ago U.S. News & World Report carried a piece on class consciousness. We learned -- pay attention! -- that "All poor students, after all, are not minorities, and all minorities are not poor." What the writer meant, we may charitably suppose, was that not all poor students are minorities, and not all minority students are poor. Let us read our copy!
Back in January, a writer for The Associated Press wrote a dispatch from Cleveland: "Legal documents compiled in a new book Polish officials say support their ownership claim to drawings by Renaissance master Albrecht Durer that were looted by the Nazis during World War II." Fellow writers! That little squiggle on the bottom row of the keyboard is called a "comma." Let us insert a comma after "book," and another comma after "say," and behold! We don't yet have a good sentence, but copy editing has made it a better sentence.
Six months ago USA Today carried an obituary on actor Jerry Orbach, a fellow much loved by fans of "Law & Order." His producer offered a tribute that came from the heart: "His loss is irreplaceable." The sentiment was well-intended, but the sentence stumbled. That was the problem last November in an Australian newsletter dealing in foreign exchange. Some unit of currency had closed at 0.7736. "Nothing looks like stopping it from hitting the magic 0.8000 mark at some stage before the end of the year or sooner." Makes you want to buy now.
As every professional writer knows, some sentences just come out wrong. In Mount Airy, N.C., the news editor of the local News wrote a column about taxing tobacco. He was against it. Indeed, he was against smoking in general. "I strongly advise anyone who doesn't smoke to ever start." Although he is unable to shake the habit, he has sympathy "for people who truly have adverse reactions to smoke or to children." Well, to some children.
Even The New York Times stumbles. A year ago critic A.O. Scott discussed the movie "King Arthur." He said: "David Franzoni, the screenwriter, also wrote 'Gladiator,' and Clive Owen's Arthur, like Russell Crowe's Maximus, both faithfully serves the Roman empire and turns against its authoritarian abuses."
Somewhere in that sentence was an idea struggling to get out.
Let us read our copy, read our copy, read our copy! And if we're not on deadline, read our copy once again.
