I worked as an editor once. This was back when a career in publishing still felt possible. First I was assistant, then coordinator at successive academic houses directly connected to my alma matter. After a couple of years of that I made the jump to freelance copy-editing.
Freelancing was interesting and challenging.
I had this client – he was determined to strike it rich, and if regular work and gambling didn’t get him there then goshdarnit he was going to be a bestselling author and would I edit his book?
I was skeptical, but interested. Did he know I only copy-edited? Oh yes, yes of course; he knew all the things. Well!
Thankfully by this point I was a bit savvy and had him sign a contract and pay me a deposit. Thankfully, because he handed me 12 rough pages of bullet points and – despite signing a contract that clearly outlined my scope and purview as a copy-editor – he stated that he expected me to turn his 12 pages of bullet points into his book. In about a week. And he was outraged! incredulous! when I handed him back his pages with a few nicely typed pages of my own on top with suggestions for next steps.
I remembered this as I was reading Ursula K. LeGuin’s book about craft. It’s great of course; well written, interesting, solid exercises; just as you’d expect. She writes:
Careless grammar is bad design plus sand in the gears and the wrong size gaskets.
-p. 21. Kindle Edition
Perfect, right? I lived and breathed grammar for so long that I don’t think of it the way I used to and so picked up her book for a refresher and to learn more new things, of course!
I’m not a stickler though. Oh no. don’t you confuse me for one of those infuriatingly smug grammarians, red-penning it up all over the place.
One of my top 5 favorite things about language is that it’s very nature, the core of it if you will, is it’s fluidity. I love the grace and ease with which it flows.
To me, language is a river, and our usage is all the things in the river: the stones and plants, the rose petals and tossed love-letters, the fishies and dragonflys, but also the McDonalds wrappers, dead birds, detritus and flotsam and jetsam that gets picked up along the way and flows merrily along together to form one whole and imperfect changing thing.