Friday, October 19, 2007
Booking Through Thursday: Typos
This week's Booking Through Thursday question made me smile.
What’s the worst typographical error you’ve ever found in (or on) a book?
I was reading an ARC of Jennifer Estep's upcoming release, Hot Mama, and found conscious used instead of conscience. I figured she'd turned in the edits, but e-mailed her to ask if she'd caught it, anyway. Just to be safe. I don't want Jennifer to look bad; her books are terrific. Go read them if you haven't.
For more on Typos, I send you to my good friend, (fictional) music reporter Chelle LaFleur.
Here is her first editorial on the subject.
This is her second editorial about typos.
I felt bad about posting two Chelle rants so close together, so I offered up this explanation of why.
And there you go. All about typos.
What’s the worst typographical error you’ve ever found in (or on) a book?
I was reading an ARC of Jennifer Estep's upcoming release, Hot Mama, and found conscious used instead of conscience. I figured she'd turned in the edits, but e-mailed her to ask if she'd caught it, anyway. Just to be safe. I don't want Jennifer to look bad; her books are terrific. Go read them if you haven't.
For more on Typos, I send you to my good friend, (fictional) music reporter Chelle LaFleur.
Here is her first editorial on the subject.
This is her second editorial about typos.
I felt bad about posting two Chelle rants so close together, so I offered up this explanation of why.
And there you go. All about typos.
Labels: Booking Through Thursday, meme, typos
Sunday, March 11, 2007
Byline: Chelle LaFleur -- More about Typos
Here I go again
about typos. Sue me, all right? I'm a journalist even if I never went to school for it. But maybe that's why it gets my goat so much, you know what I'm saying here, people? If Chelle LaFleur can find a way to spell right, so can you.
Yes, it's that simple. No, don't you dare come whining to me about how busy you are and how something like spelling shouldn't matter. It does and it should. If I can hustle to make my own bills and still take the time to spell right, so can you.
Besides, we live in a world that's more and more about our computer screens. We don't see faces no more; we see pictures and while y'all might have some pretty darn interesting body parts, that's something else you gotta consider.
Here's the deal: The Trumpet here is looking to hire some freelance writers, now that they've gone and put me on staff full-time with a salary and everything. We all know they did this so I'll stop writing for every news outfit in town and so they can keep me for themselves, but that ain't the issue, here. What it's all about are these applications we've been gettin' in at the office.
"I wanna be a righter."
I kid you not, that's what one application said. You wanna be a lefter, too? You wanna get an interview? Work with real people and not monkeys or your greased-up right hand? Learn how to spell.
One kid came into the reception area wearing a dirty red hoodie, pulled up and looking like it hadn't been washed in a year or two. Alls we could see was his nose, and that didn't look too clean, neither. I kid you not. And this small voice comes out, "I can write music reviews."
Well, people, lookie here. That's Chelle's job. No one said nothing about writing music reviews.
Look. I meet folk like you daily. You all wanna have a glamour job like ole Chelle's. But to get where I am, and to get to the point where you can write a column like I do and use slang like I do -- but you'll notice it's all spelled right slang -- you gotta impress. You gotta make people believe that you can do the job from the first second they lay eyes on you.
You can't do that if you can't spell. Take two seconds and look up those words in the dictionary. You just might learn something along the way, and learnin's always a good thing. Use that word you just learned and make someone think you're smart.
I remember a day when being smart was sexy. Well, in this corner of the world, that hasn't changed. Smart is sexy. Good spelling is hotter than hot. And being professional from the get-go is what'll get you where Chelle is.
You heard it first and you heard it here. You may not get to where ole Chelle is, but if not, it's only you that's holding you back.
about typos. Sue me, all right? I'm a journalist even if I never went to school for it. But maybe that's why it gets my goat so much, you know what I'm saying here, people? If Chelle LaFleur can find a way to spell right, so can you.
Yes, it's that simple. No, don't you dare come whining to me about how busy you are and how something like spelling shouldn't matter. It does and it should. If I can hustle to make my own bills and still take the time to spell right, so can you.
Besides, we live in a world that's more and more about our computer screens. We don't see faces no more; we see pictures and while y'all might have some pretty darn interesting body parts, that's something else you gotta consider.
Here's the deal: The Trumpet here is looking to hire some freelance writers, now that they've gone and put me on staff full-time with a salary and everything. We all know they did this so I'll stop writing for every news outfit in town and so they can keep me for themselves, but that ain't the issue, here. What it's all about are these applications we've been gettin' in at the office.
"I wanna be a righter."
I kid you not, that's what one application said. You wanna be a lefter, too? You wanna get an interview? Work with real people and not monkeys or your greased-up right hand? Learn how to spell.
One kid came into the reception area wearing a dirty red hoodie, pulled up and looking like it hadn't been washed in a year or two. Alls we could see was his nose, and that didn't look too clean, neither. I kid you not. And this small voice comes out, "I can write music reviews."
Well, people, lookie here. That's Chelle's job. No one said nothing about writing music reviews.
Look. I meet folk like you daily. You all wanna have a glamour job like ole Chelle's. But to get where I am, and to get to the point where you can write a column like I do and use slang like I do -- but you'll notice it's all spelled right slang -- you gotta impress. You gotta make people believe that you can do the job from the first second they lay eyes on you.
You can't do that if you can't spell. Take two seconds and look up those words in the dictionary. You just might learn something along the way, and learnin's always a good thing. Use that word you just learned and make someone think you're smart.
I remember a day when being smart was sexy. Well, in this corner of the world, that hasn't changed. Smart is sexy. Good spelling is hotter than hot. And being professional from the get-go is what'll get you where Chelle is.
You heard it first and you heard it here. You may not get to where ole Chelle is, but if not, it's only you that's holding you back.
Labels: Chelle LaFleur, creative writing, typos
Monday, October 30, 2006
Byline: Chelle LaFleur -- Typos
All right, all right. Leave me alone already.
Over the past few days and don't ask my fat ass to count them, people, I've gotten more e-mail from you readers than I have in the past six months combined. And you're all whining about two stupid mistakes.
I'll own up to one of them. I forgot to add the letter S on the end of the magazine title the other day. But can you blame a girl? I was all caught up in that picture -- it is still, at this moment, making me fan myself with a funeral fan I found in the bottom of my desk. Thank God for funerals, boys and girls! And so what if I decided that this issue of guitar gods ought to be about one and only?
As for the capital letters, don't be blaming me for that. I read guitar gods magazine every quarter. I know darn well they have this thing for lower case letters.
No. If you want to blame that on someone, you go blame it on my copy editor, who now has about three back issues featuring guys I never liked anyway, like that tribute to Jim Shields once he finally gave in to the AIDS, sitting on her desk, teaching her that screwing up like she did just makes old Chelle even nastier than usual.
Speaking of nasty, who's the smarty-artie who sent me that nasty t-shirt last week?
You heard it first, you heard it here, and this time, you heard it right. guitar god magazine featuring the very godlike Mitchell Voss. On sale in two more days.
Can you stand it?
Over the past few days and don't ask my fat ass to count them, people, I've gotten more e-mail from you readers than I have in the past six months combined. And you're all whining about two stupid mistakes.
I'll own up to one of them. I forgot to add the letter S on the end of the magazine title the other day. But can you blame a girl? I was all caught up in that picture -- it is still, at this moment, making me fan myself with a funeral fan I found in the bottom of my desk. Thank God for funerals, boys and girls! And so what if I decided that this issue of guitar gods ought to be about one and only?
As for the capital letters, don't be blaming me for that. I read guitar gods magazine every quarter. I know darn well they have this thing for lower case letters.
No. If you want to blame that on someone, you go blame it on my copy editor, who now has about three back issues featuring guys I never liked anyway, like that tribute to Jim Shields once he finally gave in to the AIDS, sitting on her desk, teaching her that screwing up like she did just makes old Chelle even nastier than usual.
Speaking of nasty, who's the smarty-artie who sent me that nasty t-shirt last week?
You heard it first, you heard it here, and this time, you heard it right. guitar god magazine featuring the very godlike Mitchell Voss. On sale in two more days.
Can you stand it?
Labels: Chelle LaFleur, creative writing, fiction, typos
