Learn to write ... but learn to type ... a bit!

Learn to write ... but learn to type ... a bit!

No law says you have to be an expert typist, typing 100 words per minute. You can be a two-finger typist if you like, and type as slowly as you please. You also might be daunted by the prospect of having to learn to 'touch type.' Don't be, because no one cares if you watch your fingers while you type.

In the last twenty years or so, when one had to learn to write, and to read, as a child, a lot of people learned at a computer. The vast majority of folks under 30 right now are already well acquainted with keyboards. But if you're a little older, never worked in an office, never had the need to type anything — you might easily have some of the best novels ever written locked up in yor head, but they're going to have to get out somehow!

Try a little bribery, as mentioned above. Or (and you might shudder as you read this, but give it some serious thought before you leave it behind), consider investing in a computer and either having the kids or grandkids come over and show you how to use ir properly, or get a book, or take a course ... or stay on this website, and we'll talk you through the rudiments! We're also going to take a close-up look at computers for writers: what you need to buy, and what you don't need or want, but the salesman will sell you anyway, if you let him, for an extra suitcase full of money.

Learning to type ... a bit ... is the best way to solve the problems involved when you've decided to learn to write fiction, stories, books, novels, absolutely from scratch. Computers to make typing easier, but there'sa downside: using them us not quite as simple as turning them on. You do have to learn to use a mouse (which is a pointing device, used to 'point at' and 'cliclk-to-activate things on the desktop. The desktop is the computer's basic screen, before any program is started up. The 'things' on the desktop are 'icons' — you click on them to choose which program you want, and start it.)

In short, there's a small learning curve before you actually get started learning to type. But when you can tell your mouse from your moitor, save files, open folders ... and all the stuff five year olds are doing without even thinking about it (!), you'll be ready to conquer the keyboard. There are some very good typing tutors, if you want to get into this seriously, but remember, the objective is to learn to WRITE, not to type. It's your words, your plots, ideas, characters and situations which are important, not the process by which they get inside the computer.

Using a computer also gives you the ability to have the machine do a quick proofread for you. It's called 'spell cehcking,' and it will certainly pick up spelling errors, should you make them. However, it's far more useful for picking up typographical errors, which is sees by matching tyor typing against its database, the vocabulary of words it knows.

A word to the wise. Never trust the computer to proofread for you. It'll miss almost as many errors as it finds, because it doesn't read the contextual meaning of sentences, so it can't tell when you meant 'through' and typed 'threw,' or you wanted 'through' and got 'though,' or wanted to say 'then' and typed 'them' instead. Unless there is a genuine error in a word (rotatoon = rotation, planer = planet, swign = swing, and so on), the spell checker sees nothing. The human eye is the only tool which will find many typos, becuse even now, as smart and powerful as computers are, they don't actually read. They match individual words against a monstrous database. When you decide to learn to write, challenged pop up everywhere: you just discovered you can beat the machines!

We're going to talk more abouot computers in another post: what to buy, what to skip, and how to save some money. We'll be looking at the hardware (the machines thesmselves) and software (the programs which run on the machines), and you can choose which is right for you before you put down a penny.

Can I proofread and edit my own work?!

I've heard proofing and editing my own work is impossible!

Well ... not impossible. Just more difficult! When you're editing for someone else, it's easy to be ruthless. You 'prune' wherever you see something that needs to be snipped. You're not in love with every word in this chapter, and what needs to be done seems obvious, often painfully so. However, writing as a freelance, editing your own work will require some discipline.

There is a good chance you are in love with every word in the chapter you're editing, and you know the saying ... love is blind. It can be hard to see faults in our own work, though they fairly 'jump off the page' to someone else. (Which is the up-side to using a professional freelance editing service.) See the sidebar to your right for career-changing, guru-like guidance!

At this point, you come to a personal decision, and it can be another epiphany.

If you're aspiring to be a professional writer, you'll need to slither past the natural love affair you have with your material. Step back to get a new perspective. See it through someone else's eyes.

It can be a right, royal pain to put a line through what you've written, find other words to express what you mean, delete a whole scene, ditch a lot of dialog. However, if this kind of freelance editing is what it takes to bring your manuscript up to full professional standard and earn you some good money, it's unavoidable, and highly desirable.

Here's the kicker. Industry professionals (publishers, editors, veteran writers) can see every fault the instant they look at a text. It's an 'eye' for words, which some people have naturally and others have to work at. This quality, the ability to perform freelance editing unconsciously, on-the-fly, is like hearing a melody and being able to whistle along with it.

Believe it or not, a fair percentage of human beings can't hear melody! They're said to be 'tone deaf,' it's a medically diagnosable condition. (Which might explain why a good deal of modern music actually has no melodic line; it appeals to the surprisingly large section of the population who can't hear a tune.)

Professional writers have what's been called a 'built-in, automatic crap detector,' which turns on the moment they begin to write, and acts like a filter for all kinds of materials. Bad grammar, poor sentence construction, ambiguous wording, incorrectly used words, repeated words, 'purple light words,' over-writing, under-writing, melodramatics, unintentional humor, run-on sentences, and 'sudden death' material ... all gets filtered out either as soon as it's typed, or before the fingers hit the keys! This is freelance editing on autopilot.



IMPORTANT: Don't be perturbed by unfamiliar concepts in the paragraph above. They might sound odd, scary and confusing now, but in an hour you'll be familiar with them all. Some, you'll recognize. Some might make you stop and think, and perhaps take another look at your own work. And maybe you'll feel the tingle of an epiphany coming on! The freelance editing wizard inside you is beginning to turn on.



Even if you can't 'pick the tune' at once when it comes to being able to tell good writing from poor, don't be anxious. There are two ways to approach this. If Plan A is out of reach, fall back on Plan B.

Plan A is about natural, born writers who can pick the tune so easily, for most of their writing careers, they 'play by ear.' They're like a singer or musician who can't read music, has no idea what s/he's playing or singing, yet fronts for a band and gets massive applause.

If you're among these writers, you've probably been getting rave reviews from friends and family for years. They're exhorting you to 'go pro.' You might even have tried ... you might also have failed. The reason is, a writer 'playing by ear' is prone to let fiddling little errors slip through. Professional editors easily pick them up. The editor will weigh the sparkle of your work (and if you're a born writer, it'll always sparkle) against the amount of editing needed to bring you up to publication standard. They look at outsourced freelance editing as time, then convert time to money — and you get a rejection slip instead of the contract you were praying for.

It's still very possible for a natural, born writer to get published. But it's by no means easy or certain, and it would be fair to say that the road to publication will be liberally papered with rejection letters, even for natural-borns.

So ... Plan B: Not being a natural, you need to (figuratively) learn to read music. Even if you only play the piano with one finger, you can tap out the tune and learn it, note by note. It just takes a little longer than being able to hear the melody a couple of times, and then promptly play it.

Writing (and the freelance editing which goes hand in hand with writing) is exactly like this, for a great many people. Having to learn the process doesn't mean you can't do it. It just means you'll play 'catch up' while the naturals romp it. (However, the 'by ear' writers are often working with a handicap they're not even aware of. Those little errors slip through and accumulate, and the end result is still a rejection slip. Take heart: you can to better than catch up. You can actually overtake them.)

There's a gray area in which writers who are on the top rungs of the amateur league tend to languish for some time. It's a twilight zone where these writers are the best of the bunch in their writers' workshop, APA, or class ... yet they don't make the transition to professional. You've seen it happen; you wonder if it'll happen to you.

These writers don't make the transition for any one of several reasons. Some writers are quite happy to be amateurs. They don't need to write for money. It's a fantastic hobby, and they don't feel 'driven' to get to grips with the world of pro publishers, freelance editors, reviewers. Other writers would love to turn pro, but they suspect they don't quite have the skills ... and they're simply too lazy to invest the effort, and learn.

A third group refuse to believe they have anything to learn. They know they're the best, and they have fits if anyone 'puts one sticky finger' on a word they write (unquote!) Such writers might be very good indeed, but it's a thousand-to-one against them getting professionally published without being edited, and since they don't want to confront editors -- they don't submit professionally. Their love affair with their material, which causes them to guard every syllable, is maintaining their amateur status. (Freelance editors would be creatures from their worst nightmares. Again — see the sidebar to your right!)

A large group of writers are extremely good, and willing to learn, do submit ... and still fail to make the transition. Some can't deal with rejection slips, and in the early days, rejection notices are a fact of life. Someone one said, 'You have to develop a thick skin.' Line the budgie cage with your rejection slips, and press on.

Other writers genuinely have nothing fresh to contribute, and they probably know it! To get published, you need determination, skill, and something fresh to say.

It's perfectly true that there are no new stories. They have all been told, and most of them have been told a thousand times over. The trick is to find a new spin to put on old material. Have a look at Eregon ... in fact, it's Star Wars dressed up as Lord of the Rings. It's also incredibly popular. (In turn, Star Wars has so much in common with both The Three Musketeers and Lord of the Rings that, if you need it, here's the proof. There's no such thing as a new story! However you can put such a fresh spin on an old one, readers and viewers are delighted.)

Grammatical errors: shoot them down

Grammatical errors are like dropped stitches in knitting, or forgetting the salt in cookery, or using the wrong size nails in carpentry: the end result is a flaw. A shelf fell down; a dish tasted odd; the knitting pattern went wrong. Copy editing is the process of picking up the stitches, salting the pot, and fixing the cupboard!

Grammer is a huge subject, much too broad for a single page. However, anyone who is experienced in copy editing will tell you, there's a particular handful of gaffs which are so common, made so often by so many people, they comprise about 75% of all the copy editing booboos you'll see. Therefore, if we fix those few, it's safe to say we'll be down to only 25% of the gremlins left to be hunted down. That's under control. I can look at the last, pesky 25% in an in-depth PDF, downloading from this page (in due course: bookmark this, and come back soon!), but for now, let's get after those gremlins that have seriously out-stayed their welcome.

Your computer won't be able to help much here. You can get grammatical checking programs, but these are a mixed blessing. They read your document and make suggestions. Most will be right; some will be glaringly wong. You'll still have to know the difference ... when to accept the program's suggestion, and when to reject it.


THE SEVEN MOST COMMON GRAMMATICAL ERRORS
... and how to avoid them.

Serious, nuts-and-bolts copy editing starts here, so get out your pencils and let's make a start.


#1: It's ... its ... its' ... which is it?

Understand the difference between them, and it's simple:

It's is a contraction. It's short
for it+is. You use It's to say, "It's a beautiful day;" "it's a crying shame;" "Mike said it's
in the cupboard;" "Jim's bike? It's broken;" "it's being mended;" "it's got two flat tires." "It's not
a good idea." "It's time for tea." "It's too late for talking." "Then, it's all over?" "But it's only just
started!"

Its shows possession: my, your, his, her, our, their ... its. Notice, NONE of the words
showing possession have an apostrophe. Not one of them. So, it's easy to tell when to use
Its, because it has no apostrophe. Like this:

"Its paint was cracked." "She had a bike, but its wheel was buckled." "Jim said its door was yellow." "Yes, but its knob was green." "Its wires were burned out." "Its tail feathers are white." "Its aroma was delicious." "The song was lovely, its melody soared." (In these examples, Its is
standing in for the noun. A house, a door, a bike, a radio, a bird, a pot of soup; a song.)

Its' is a typographical error. Never use it, because it doesn't mean anything at all. It's
the ultimate booboo: gibberish. A mix-up between your fingers and the keys. 'Nuff said.



#2: Billboard's ... billboards ... hotdog's ... hotdogs ... house's ... houses ... help!

More fun with the apostrophe. Relax: it's easy. You already know, after reading #1, that the
apostrophe shows possession. What is does NOT show #151 not ever! -- is the plural, of
anything! (Singular is one of something; plural is two or more.) All you have to do, to avoid this
incredibly common gaff is, never, never use the apostrophe when you mean "two or more."
Like this:

One billboard; two billboards.

One dog; half a dozen cats.

One horse; herds of horses.

One book; a whole library of books.

One mug of soup; twenty mugs of soup.

One piece of cloth; ten bolts of cloth.

One pilot; an air force filled with pilots.

One doctor; more doctors than you could guess.

One lawyer; more lawyers than can be employed.

One flower; fields filled with flowers of all kinds.

One lawnmower; fields of mown grass without flowers.

One man; two men riding bikes.

One fish; fifty fish in the fish shop windows;

One sheep; fields full of sheep.

One goose; a gaggle of geese;

One woman; crowds of angry women.

One child; several children;

One cargo; several cargoes on various ships.

One zero; three zeroes and a one make a thousand;

One star; ten thousand stars in tropical skies.

One foot; several feet but only two boots.



#3: Their ... there ... they're ... which is right?

All three are correct, in context. When you're copy editing, all you need to do is make sure the
right word is used for the right context. Fortunately, it's so easy!

Their is a possessive pronoun. (A pronoun is a word which stands in, like an understudy,
for a noun. 'It' can be the standin for a lamp, an elephant, and the planet Mars. 'She' can be the
standin for two year old Gemma, your great-grandmom, and the starship Enterprise.
'They' can be used to stand for a bunch of flowers, ten battleships, and the Hell's Angels. Pronouns are the most flexible words in the language, and some of them show how a noun "owns" or "possesses" something. "The gir's bike = her bike." "Jim's book = his book." "The car's wheels = its wheels." "The boys' exams = their exams." The personal pronouns in this particular word list are "my, your, his, her, its, our, and their." Simply add a noun to any of them, and you can't go wrong.)

So, Their is only ever (ever!) used to show how a bunch of people or things "possess"
something else. Stick to this, and you can't go wrong. "Their religion." "Their tourism industry."
"Their Size 14 desses." "Their industrial-strength titanium frames." "Their tiny, delicate petals." "Their industrial-strength tartan underwear." "Their warped camshafts." "Their photon torpedo banks." "Their painted fingernails." Easy.

There is a word with two jobs.

The first job is where "there" is used as a preposition. (Prepositions are words which show the position of objects in space. Under, over, in(side) out(side), before, behind, between, above, below, here ... there.) So, "The football stopped over there." "Our house is there, on the corner." "There are the girls." "The frog was there, on the rock." "I saw him standing there." "She said, 'There it is, under the table." He answered, 'I don't see it there.'" "'But the book is there,' she insisted. 'I put it there!'" "Jim saw the Klingons, hiding in wait there." So, in this context, use

There to show the position of objects in space. Never use "their" or "they're," and you can't go wrong.


Second job performed by "there" ... it shows the existence of things. Like this:

There is; there are; there were; there will be; there aren't any; there are six; there were 43;
there haven't been any since May; there won't be any until August; there isn't a chance;
there can't be a sound; there wasn't any trace; there is a whole load of them; there is at least
a million; there was one when I got here. So, in this contect use There only (only!) to show the existence of things.


They're is a contraction. It's short for they+are. "They're" is never (never!) used for any
other purpose. Stick to this, and you'll be right ever time. Like this:

"They're on their way home, I see them there on the road." "They said they're coming back, as
soon as their car is fixed." "I talked to Jack and Sam, they're finished the job." "We called them
last night, they're on the morning train." "The two dogs are fighting, they're going to get hurt this time." "Six cars are racing on the road, they're driven by maniacs." "Four flights have been cancelled today, they're waiting for fog to clear." "Daniel and Jack won't be back tonight, they're busy." "Their plane is late, so they're going to take a cab home, we don't have to wait there."



#4: Attack of the killer pronouns!

Take a look at these sentences. Each contains one pronoun and two or three nous. The problem is, you're left guessing which of the nouns the pronoun stands in for, and the sentences become ambiguous. One of the most important copy editing jobs is to watch out for ambiguity, turn the muddy into the clear. Pronouns can get you into a lot of trouble! Like this:

Jim said he had seen the car one night, but it was dark.

The horse was already in the barn, but I thought it was too hot.

I came home at one with both the fishfood and pizza, but it was cold.

The bus hit the car, and the man told the police it was badly damaged.

Jack had lunch and saw a movie, and he didn't enjoy it.

The crate fell out out of the plane, and we all watched it land.

Jack and George went to a show, and Jack told him he would buy the drinks later, but he had to go home early.

Sally and Maud were knitting, and Maud showed her how to cast off before she went to make coffee.

Jim and Tom are great neighbors, and Tom said, lend me the mower and I'll cut both lawns, but he came down with a headache, so neither was cut."

We saw a big white cat take on a small brown dog, and it won the fight, hands down.

The small yellow plane at the airport parked beside the big white 747 for an hour, before it flew out.

Try this:

Jim said he had seen the car one night, but THE VEHICLE was dark.

I thought the horse was too hot, though it was already in the barn.

I came home at one with both the fishfood and pizza, but THE BUILDING was cold.

The bus hit the BMW which, as the man told the police, was badly damaged.

Jack had lunch and saw a movie, and he didn't enjoy HIS MEAL.

The crate fell out out of the plane, and we all watched THE HEAVY BOX land.

Jack and George went to a show and, afterwards, if George had not been headed home early, Jack would have bought the drinks.

Sally and Maud were knitting, and before she went to make coffee, Maud showed her how to cast off.

Jim and Tom are great neighbors. Tom said, lend me the mower and I'll cut both lawns, but neither was cut, as JIM came down with a headache."

We saw a big white cat take on a small brown dog, and THE PERSIAN won the fight, hands down.

The small yellow plane at the airport parked beside the big white 747 for an hour, before it flew out.

The trick is to see the ambiguity, and then look for ways to either invert the sentence to make the potential for ambiguity go away; you can also replace the pronoun with a similar word which will do the job just as well, and prevent over-use of the original noun. Copy editing give you the opportunity to revise to your heart's content. (In the examples above, the car = the vehicle; home = the building; lunch = his meal; the crate = the heavy box; the white cat = the Persian.
In the other examples, the sentences have been turned inside out to weed out the potential for killer pronouns.



#5: Subjects and Objects: it's war!


Every sentence has a subject. If it doesn't have a subject, it's not a sentence! (Put your copy editing hat on here.) The 'subject' of a sentence is the entitythat performs the verb. Think of the subject as the owner of the verb. Like this:

The boy sings.

The elderly man knew the answer.

A beat-up red car is running the lights.

A small brown puppy with big, bright eyes wants his dinner.

Mother's cat, a young Persian called Nostradamus, jumped right over the wall.

Two girls from Nebraska arrived on the train.

A regiment of door-to-door salesmen has worked this street.

Six badly-behaved children with execrable manners terrorized the delicatessen for half an hour.

Eight people were arrested during and after the football game.

First step: pick out the verbs. (A verb is an 'action' word. It can be the only word in the entire sentence that indicates what is actually HAPPENING! In the examples above, the verbs are...


Sings ... running ... wants ... jumped ... arrived ... worked ... terrorized ... arrested.


(NOTE: the vebs are in different tenses, but don't worry about this. They're all verbs, and at this moment, that's what counts.)

Now, figure out who's performing each verb. Who owns it?

The boy ... The elderly man ... A beat-up red car ... A small brown puppy with big, bright eyes ...
Mother's cat, a young Persian called Nostradamus ... Two girls from Nebraska ...
A regiment of door-to-door salesmen ... Six badly behaved children with execrable banners ...
Eight people.

Notice how subjects can be simple ("The boy" and "eight people"), and either singular or plural. The subject can be a whole bunch of people ("A regiment") ... and the subject can get complicated, as in the case of Nostradamus!

The subject of the sentence is all the words used to describe the subject, gathered together:

A small, thin, hollow-eyed little boy from an impoverished family in Perth.


A ranting, raving idiot of a man who drove a big, black limousine.


Several elderly spinsters from a quilt-making club in small-town Idaho.

These, above, are not sentences, even though they're long. They're fragments. To make a sentence, you need add a verb:

A small, thin, hollow-eyed little boy, from an impoverished family in Perth, FELL DOWN at school.


A ranting, raving idiot of a man who drove a big, black limousine, CRASHED in the highstreet.


Several elderly spinsters from a quilt-making club in small-town Idaho ARRIVED in Los Angeles for the seminar.

(Do you still have your copy editing hat on? Good!) Now, what about the object of a sentence. Not all sentences have objects. Very hort ones can be complete without them:

The little boy sang angelically.

Five bodybuilders preened and strutted up and down.

An army of carpenters hammered enthusiastically.

But, the instant these short, choppy little sentences start to grow and express more ... you get an object. The object is the entity or object that is affected by the verb. It has the verb performed on it, or done to it. Like this:

The little boy sang angelically to THE AUDIENCE.

Five bodybuilders preened and strutted up and down for ten minutes after the won THE TEAM EVENT TROPHY.

An army of carpenters hammered enthusiastically to build THE HOUSE in just four days.

Here's more, with the object in capitals:

Jack and Daniel arrived HOME.

The little girl smashed HER DOLL by accident.

Five puppies escaped from THE PET SHOP and headed down the mall.

Two policeman struggled to catch THE YOUNG DOGS.

Charles was delighted to win THE WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP.

The driver of a yellow Gogomobile parked in THE LANE.

The Gogomobile stood between TWO FREIGHT TRUCKS.

Stockton is a small town crying out for HERITAGE LISTING.

In the above examples, the verbs are:

arrived ... smashed ... escaped ... struggled-to-catch ... win ... parked ... stood ... crying-out.

And if you're looking for the subject, it's easy now: the subjects of these simple sentences are the parts that are NOT the verbs or the objects! (Jack and Daniel ... the little girl ... five puppies ... Two policemen ... Charles ... The driver of a yellow Gogomobile ... the Gogimobile ... Stockton.


So far, so good. Look for the verb; whatever, or whoever performs ("owns") the verb is the subject, and whatever gets the verb wreaked upon it is the object. The copy editing process is coming along fine.

Now things get interesting. There's a good deal more material involved in long, complicated sentences, and you have to make absolutely sure all this material is properly tagged and organized. If you get lazy and inattentive, you can end up with hilarious, fall-down-laughing copy editing results, like this:

The pharmacy offered a comb for a baby with celluloid teeth.

The man delivered a table to a lady with antique legs.

Two guys fixed a house for a client with a nasty case of termites.

Dad bought a new drill for a cupboard with a three-meter cord.

The maestro made a guitar for a musician with bright steel pegs.

The trick is simply to arrange the sentence to keep all the appropriate material gathered together. While you're learning, go through a sentence and "tag" the various parts. Underline the verb, highlight the subject, and then when you've identified the object, round up all the material belong to it:

A comb with celluloid teeth ... a table with antique legs ... a house with a nasty case of termites ... a drill with a three-meter cord ... a guitar with bright steel pegs.

The other subject/object battle you can easily get into while copy editing is this: in long sentences, a fight can develop over who owns the verb. When sentences become very long and complex, you can find yourself hunting around trying to sort out who owns what. The easiest "fix" for this malady is to break the sentence down into two, three or even more smaller ones. Shorter sentences are easier to control ... often, they're also easier to read, and they can pack a "punch" in the narrative, which longer, flowing sentences don't have. This is where copy editing can actually cross back over and line into creative writing. The border between the two blurs out.

For example, here's a long, rambling sentence, and the copy editing cure for it:

A good distance offshore, where the water becomes very deep because the continental shelf drops off into the abyss, two small trawlers (which had, an hour before, put out of the port of San Cristobal) set their nets, with the obvious intention of catching any assortment of the shallow-water pelagic fish which abound in those seas, when the sky darkened with thunderclouds and a storm came up, so suddenly and so violently — with massive winds and a barrage of hail — that both the boats were half swamped before the captains could secure them, and only one skipper could broadcast a Mayday signal over the shortwave ahead of the predictable disaster.

Structurally, the sentence is sound, but it rambles from one topic to another, and another: the coastline, the trawlers, the fishing grounds, the storm, the disaster. In the middle of such a sentece, you can struggle to see who or what owns which verb, and it's all too easy to get into a muddle. Good copy editing should always be performed with the reader in mind, not the writer! Make the story easy to understand, and people will staty with you, keep reading and buy your next book!

Try this:

A good distance offshore, the water becomes very deep because the continental shelf drops off into the abyss. Two small trawlers had, an hour before, put out of the port of San Cristobal. They set their nets, with the obvious intention of catching any assortment of the shallow-water pelagic fish which abound in those seas. The sky darkened with thunderclouds and a storm came up, suddenly and violently, with massive winds and a barrage of hail. Both boats were half swamped before the captains could secure them, and only one skipper could broadcast a Mayday signal over the shortwave ahead of the predictable disaster.

In the second "take" on the same material, it's split up into five sentences. The copy editing was very effective. The material is not easier to read, and much easier to control. Subjects and objects are easier to pick out. Be vigilant: by all means write in fluid sentences which sound good in the ear, but ... know when enough is enough!

Take pity on your readers.


There is one more rambling-sentence problem which we'll touch on here, and cover properly elsewhere. It's called the "run-on" sentence, and this is something you need to be keenly aware of, so that you can steer well clear if it.

The "run-on" is a long, long sentence which has no business being a sentence at all. It's actually several shorter sentences which the writer has spliced together with commas and semi-colons, in order to simulate the "sound" of fluid sentence construction. In fact, the sentences have nothing to do with each other and should be separate.

In the following example, each sentence is complete, even though some of them are short and choppy. They're also unconnected! You can glue the whole lot together with comms, semi-colons and conjunctions (the "ands" and "buts"), however ... you shouldn't, because these sentences address different topics:

They came to rest seven miles outside the town. The sun was hot. Charlotteville was on the horizon. A tribe of gypsies had pitched camp by the well. James was sweating in the heavy tunic. Worried about his father, Marcus remained intent on the town they had just left. With an expert flourish of the bow, a gypsy fiddler began a lively folk tune. The horses were tired, and in need of rest.

Here it is as a run-on sentence. This is what you DON'T want to to:

They came to rest seven miles outside the town, the sun was hot, Charlotteville was on the horizon, a tribe of gypsies had pitched camp by the well, and James was sweating in the heavy tunic — worried about his father, Marcus remained intent on the town they had just left, and with an expert flourish of the bow, a gypsy fiddler began a lively folk tune, and the horses were tired, and in need of rest.

You can paste anything together with the glue of punctuation and conjunctions, but in many instaces, you should't. The trick is to split up the material and keep topics together. Identify your subjects, objects and verbs, and keep them under control. This is better:

They came to rest seven miles outside the town where the sun was hot, making James sweat in the heavy tunic. The horses were tired, and in need of rest. Worried about his father, Marcus remained intent on the town they had just left, but Charlotteville was on the horizon. A tribe of gypsies had pitched camp by the well, and with an expert flourish of the bow, a gypsy fiddler began a lively folk tune.

I'll be looking at run-ons in greater detail elsewhere, but for now ths example will give you a good grasp of what you want to do ... and what you don't!



#6: That ... or which ...? So, which is it?


At least in this contex this one is an easy fix. (NOTE: there are many and complex rules governing "that" and "which," but in this case ... trying to work out which one to use, when they seem at first glance to be interchangeable! ... it's not so complex. At this moment, with this particular problem, you're hunting for a "five minute fix" to solve the "that/which battle" -- you only need to know one rule. Elsewhere on the site, we'll examine clauses, and subordinate clauses and a lot of material which can get fairly confusing. The fact is, however, when you just need
a "that/which quick-fix," you don't want all the rest. For now, scoop the icing off the top; come back for the rest of the cake later.)


"That" and "Which" have many uses in English. One of their jobs is to glue sentences together in a specific ways. Both of them take short, choppy, awkward, ugly entences and make them longer, smoother sentences. However, THAT and WHICH are
used in different ways, in different contexts. They're not interchangeable at all! So ... which would you use, and when, and why?

Take a look at these examples.

"The boat crossed the harbor. The boat was green." Now, you could utterly simplify and say, "The green boat crossed the harbor." You could also say, "The boat, WHICH was green, crossed the harbor." This a a correct use for "which." Never use "that" in this context...


"He had an ace up his sleeve. George knew nothing about it." This sounds better: "He had one ace up his sleeve, WHICH George knew nothing about." This is the correct use for "which." To use "that" would be wrong...


"Don't overlook the force of the wind. It's gale-strength." This sounds better: "Don't overlook the force of the wind, WHICH is gale-strength." This is correct, and if you used "that" you'd be wrong...


"They would be picking up their car. It was being repaired today." Better: "They would be picking up their car, WHICH was being repaired today." Also correct (don't use "that").


"Bats are amazing creatures. But this doesn't make them any prettier." Better: "Bats are amazing creatures, WHICH doesn't make them any prettier!" Also correct (don't use "that").

All the above examples use WHICH. The examples below use THAT. Take a look at them, then we'll work out the rule:

"He used the kind of language that would get anyone slapped."

"It could only be the car THAT had been parked behind the salon last night."

"The tow truck used the kind of chains THAT were also seen on the boatramp."

"The only science THAT had ever fascinated her was geology."

"The huge black dog THAT had frightened the area turned out to be a wolf."

"Mrs. Bailey made more tea, but it was a single lingering lamington THAT caused the fight to break out."

"This shop I found in Sydney sells the sort of books THAT would be perfect forany six-year-old."

And now, the simple rule which makes sense of all this!

Notice, in the first set of examples, two awkward little sentences have been glued together to form one better-sounding sentence, using WHICH. They may sound better when conjointed with WHICH ... but they are actually complete and coherent on their own. Read them through again ... "Bats are amazing creatures." This makes perfect sense, and the sentence is complete, like "He had an ace up his sleeve." And "Don't overlook the force of the wind." The sentence comes to a full stop -- done. It's followed by another short sentence with amplifies it, but it'll stand on its own. WHICH is used to turn two choppy, awkward little sentences into one smooth sentence.

Notice, in the second set of examples, two concepts are joined using THAT ... but neither concept is a complete sentence on its own. Like this:

"He used the kind of language" is not a complete sentence. "It would get anyone slapped" is a sentence, but it has an "it" in there, and the "it" makes the sentence utterly ambiguous, if it's separated from the previous sentence fragment and taken out of context. "It" could be face-pulling, a rude gesture, a teeshirt with a crude cartoon, bad behavior -- or bad language. You would use THAT to join a sentence fragment (it's a fagment because it won't stand on its own as a sentence without more added) and a qualifying concept.

"The huge black dog" is not a sentence, but a fragment, like "The only science," and "It could only be the car" and especially, "Mrs. Bailey made more tea, but it was a single lingering lamington" ...! Each of these incomplete fragments needs to be welded to another, qualifying concept, in order to make proper sense. The glue you use to stick them together is WHICH."

(CAVEAT: this is the quick fix! There's a lot more to "that" and "which" than can be covered here, but by far the most common mistake is in mixing them up when you're looking for the right glue to stick short, choppy sentences together. With a firm grasp of this one rule about the that/which battles, you'll about the vast majority of errors. Bookmark this page and return when you need full, in-depth information. Or, subscribe to our newsletter. It's free, and every week or two we'll tell you which pages just went on line at Write Your Novel, detailing which pesky subjects. Visit again when what you need is "up" ...!)



#7: On which side of the bracket does the punctuation fall?

This at least is simple. Once you see the rule, all errors vanish, never to return. In the course of your copy editing, watch out for two kinds of sentences which contain parentheses (brackets):

1) The sentence is entirely inside the brackets;

2) The sentence is partly inside, partly outside the brackets.

The rule is this: If ALL the sentence is inside the brackets ... so is the punctuation. If part of the sentence is OUTSIDE the brackets, so is the punctuation. Like this:

Johnny had been in Mexico (working for his Uncle Joe), for six months.

(For some reason, Barbara had never thought of this.)

The mountains (up as far as the Swiss Alps) were white with snow.

(Seven dollars seemed like too much to pay.)

If wishes were horses (as my grandpa used to say), we'd all be cowboys.

(Jim would have preferred to see the Clint Eastwood movie, but decided not to say so.)

Proofreading: weeding out spelling errors

Spelling errors are less common these days, due to the computer's spellchecking capabilities. (If the manuscript is 'only' typed, be vigilant.) Since the computer will pick up genuine spelling errors that result in 'gibberish,' you have the possibility of a spelling error being 'corrected' into the wrong word entirely in the spell checking process. The trick is ... when you're either proofreading or copy editing, you have to know the difference!

The computer will find these:
Brign = bring; folllow = follow; wheere = where; enrole = enroll; contemporery = contemporary; definate = definite; residentiel = residential; perequisite = prerequisite; solem = solemn; perogative = prerogative; mountainus = mountainous; affinnity = affinity; proffesional = professional; sherriff = sheriff; acoustic = accoustic; erradicate = eradicate...

The computer will not find these:
Compliment = complement; their = there; though = through; principal = principle; bright = bight; cost = coast; bow = bough; pallet = palate; crate = krait; bare = bear; price = prize; buoy = boy; gorilla = guerilla; wen = when; thee = the; broker = broken; sash = sack; cloth = clothe; sooth = soothe; reed = read; pore = pour; wait = weight; bred = bread; court = caught; jeans = genes; mite = might; lice = lies; spice = spies; wrack = rack; teeth = teethe; meet = meat; write = right; rigt = wright; wheel = we'll; urn= earn; bark = barque; flaw = floor; wring = ring; sword = soared; ice = eyes; cote = coat; mote = moat; maid; made; moan = mown...

In English, there are literally hundreds of words that sound alike, are spelled differently and have vastly different meanings. It drives tourists mad ... it makes life interesting for you, when you get your teeth into copy editing.


TIP: when you read anything, anywhere, be keenly aware of WHAT you're reading. Notice, remember or jot down things which are curious; look them up later. Keep a notebook of "weird stuff." It'll soon start to make sense.


The other side of the coin of "correct spelling" is the question of which spelling system you intend to use. UK/Australian English is quite different from American/Canadian English ... and both are correct. For the purposes of copy editing, you'll need to know which is which.

If you're writing with a publisher in London, Edinburgh, Sydney or Melborne in mind, it would be best to use the UK system. If you're targeting the New York publishers, it's very important to use the US spelling system. (These days, American authorities can be a lot less tolerant of spelling differences than their British, Aussie and Kiwi counterparts!)

There is only one cardinal copy editing (or writing) sin, and this is to mix up the two systems, willy-nilly. You'll just show your (sorry, guys!) ignorance and carelessness if you use British spellings here and American spellings there. And we've seen writers change from one to the other without a care, using "recognize" here and "recognise" there. This is actually bad mannered toward the editor or publisher ... not a good idea, when this is the person you're trying to impress.

So, what's the difference between the two spelling systems? In fact, there are hundreds of words which are spelled differently, but for copy editing purposes, you need to be aware of two things. One: the rules. Two: the exceptions to the rules.

Space and time don't permit us to go into them all, but I'll look at the broad rules, and make a recommendation here...

Buy an American English dictionary, and a British/Australian dictionary, and keep them to hand. Websters Riverside is a good American English reference; the Maquarrie dictionary is the best Australian English reference, and for UK English, get the Oxford. When you're copy editing, keep these on the desk, and when you're less than 100% certain of what you're doing ... check!

The rules for the different systems of spelling used in the States and Canada, the UK and Commonwealth countries (on a broad-spectrum level, with the caveat that there are scores of exceptions!) are these:

TIP: Know who you're writing for, and chose the spelling system accordingly. Never swap and change between systems inside the same document. Consistency is paramount. Remember to set your computer's spellchecker for which spelling environment you want for a specific job. Know the rules ... and know the exceptions!

Stay with us, while I plow our way through the Copy Editing 101 series of posts; we have some useful tips for picking up all kinds of errors.

Turn page to Grammatical errors...

Proofreading: weeding outtypographical errors

Typographical errors (known as typos) are probably the most common gaffs you'll find. Everyone from the copy editor to the proofreader is looking for these little monsters, and no matter how many pairs of eyeballs are on the job, a few will still get through into the published version.

A computer spell checker will find most of them, but anyone still using a typewriter is particularly susceptible. Who's still using a typewriter? Older writers who scorn computers, younger people who can't afford one, anyone who has a computer that's broken down with the deadline right around the corner ... and writers with eye problems like macular degeneration, who must not, at all costs, look into a bright light. You'd be amazed how many typewriters are still out there, and still in use. Did you know Tom Hanks collects them? True!


However, computer users need not be too confident: computers are blind to an amazing number of booboos, and the human eye of the copy editor must find them. For example, you wanted the FIRST word in these pairs; your fingers typed the second. It's an error, but the computer won't see it:

Though ... through. Kneel ... kreel. Fine ... find. Fool ... foot. Root ... toot. Lean ... leak. Now ... not. Can ... car. Skim ... skip. Slim ... slip. Wound ... would. Deer ... deep. Then ... them. Bank ... band. Bought ... brought. Dropped ... dropper. Slipped ... slipper. Fond ... font. Like ... live. Mister ... master. Miss ... mist. Coasting ... boasting. Brawl ... yawl. Push ... lush. Boy ... box. Bright ... fright. Bathers ... fathers. Shout ... stout.

Typographical errors can produce some absolutely hilarious results. You can often have a good laugh, when you see what your fingers did all by themselves. (There are also some amusing Freudian slips).

Humor aside, get after those typos, weed them out. Get as many as you can, then have someone else apply a fresh pair of eyeballs to the manuscript. The more proofreaders "do" the book, the better it's going to be.

TIP: read slowly. Read the words, not the sentences, and definitely not the story. Read the last page in the manuscript first, and work your way through to the front. This makes sure you don't get caught up in the story and start reading, instead of proofreading.

Turn page to Spelling errors...

Return to What the heck is copy editing, anyway?