*A version of this blog post was originally published on BoldFace, the official blog of Editors Toronto, 5 March 2025.

​As an editor of scholarly texts, I work with complex texts that include multiple elements to be considered, such as bibliographies, footnotes, quotations from primary and secondary sources, and multilingual content. While all these elements must be carefully reviewed for correctness, completeness, and consistency, there is one that can easily slip by the untrained eye.

​Take the following example, a statement regarding fifteenth-century proofreading of handwritten manuscripts:

As Migliorini and Baldelli state, “The proofreader, rather than ensuring that the printed book complied with the author’s intent (a concern that has only become established in modern times), took care to present it correctly and consistently from a grammatical point of view.”⁴
 
⁴ Bruno Migliorini and Ignazio Baldelli, Breve storia della lingua italiana (Sansoni, 1984), 119.

The quotation is within double quotation marks—check. There is a footnote documenting the source of the quotation—check. The citation is formatted properly according to my prescribed Chicago Manual of Style 18 (CMOS)—check. Does anything else stand out to you as an editor?

What I notice is that the quotation is in English, yet the source cited has an Italian title. This is an issue that I encounter all the time, especially as I specialize in multilingual texts (which, in my context, I define as mainly English texts containing non-English content): authors taking the liberty of translating into English a non-English source, without providing the original text or indicating that what has been quoted is, in fact, a translation (frequently their own; NB: the translation provided above is my own, provided as a case study).

​The issue at stake is that, if the example above were left as is, the reader would be left with the impression that the quoted English text appears, as is, in English, in Migliorini and Baldelli on page 119—which it does not: the entire book cited is written in Italian (with some Latin quotations), including the quoted sentence. In scholarly work, this does not pass as accurately quoting or citing your sources.

​So, what do I do when I encounter this situation? I leave a query to the effect, “The source cited appears to be in Italian, yet an English quotation is provided here. Please indicate whether the English text appears in the original. If not, please provide the source of the English translation here, along with the original Italian text.” According to CMOS 12.6, “It is impossible to overemphasize the importance of meticulous accuracy in quoting from the works of others. Authors should check every direct quotation against the original.”

CMOS chapter 11 deals with quotations from other languages and indicates that an English translation may accompany a non-English quotation (11.14), but nowhere does it indicate that the English translation alone may be provided. The decision of whether or not to provide an accompanying translation at all depends on the “linguistic abilities of the intended audience” (11.14).

​What, then, are the options for an author wishing to quote the text from Migliorini and Baldelli yet provide an English translation? According to CMOS (11.14–15), there are several options:

As Migliorini and Baldelli state, “Il correttore di tipografia, piuttosto che curare che il libro a stampa riesca conforme al volere dell’autore (preoccupazione che solo modernamente si è affermata), pensa a presentarlo con un aspetto grammaticale corretto e coerente” (The proofreader, rather than ensuring that the printed book complied with the author’s intent [a concern that has only become established in modern times], took care to present it correctly and consistently from a grammatical point of view).⁴

As Migliorini and Baldelli state, “The proofreader, rather than ensuring that the printed book complied with the author’s intent (a concern that has only become established in modern times), took care to present it correctly and consistently from a grammatical point of view” (Il correttore di tipografia, piuttosto che curare che il libro a stampa riesca conforme al volere dell’autore [preoccupazione che solo modernamente si è affermata], pensa a presentarlo con un aspetto grammaticale corretto e coerente).⁴

(NB: In these cases, I have indicated the citation of Migliorini and Baldelli to be included in a note. CMOS 11.15 states that the source of the original may be included in the parentheses, preceding the original, but I prefer to do this only when it is possible to use a short form or title.)

​As Migliorini and Baldelli state, “The proofreader, rather than ensuring that the printed book complied with the author’s intent (a concern that has only become established in modern times), took care to present it correctly and consistently from a grammatical point of view.”⁴
 
⁴ “Il correttore di tipografia, piuttosto che curare che il libro a stampa riesca conforme al volere dell’autore (preoccupazione che solo modernamente si è affermata), pensa a presentarlo con un aspetto grammaticale corretto e coerente.” Bruno Migliorini and Ignazio Baldelli, Breve storia della lingua italiana (Sansoni, 1984), 119; my translation.
or
As Migliorini and Baldelli state, “Il correttore di tipografia, piuttosto che curare che il libro a stampa riesca conforme al volere dell’autore (preoccupazione che solo modernamente si è affermata), pensa a presentarlo con un aspetto grammaticale corretto e coerente.”⁴
 
⁴ “The proofreader, rather than ensuring that the printed book complied with the author’s intent (a concern that has only become established in modern times), took care to present it correctly and consistently from a grammatical point of view” (my translation). Bruno Migliorini and Ignazio Baldelli, Breve storia della lingua italiana (Sansoni, 1984), 119.

​Note that in the three examples above, the original Italian is always provided somewhere. In these cases, the source of the English translation must also be provided, either by citing the published translation quoted or, if the author’s own, by adding “my translation.” There is, however, a fourth alternative that does not involve quoting the original source.

According to Migliorini and Baldelli, the role of a fifteenth-century manuscript proofreader was to ensure that a text was presented correctly and consistently, not necessarily to present one that conformed to what the author wanted to say.⁴
 
⁴ Bruno Migliorini and Ignazio Baldelli, Breve storia della lingua italiana (Sansoni, 1984), 119.

​In this last case, no quotation marks surround the paraphrased text to indicate that the author is quoting directly from the text cited, so the original Italian does not need to be provided.

As an author, it is crucial to quote and document non-English sources correctly in order to give your readers an accurate account of what is found in your sources. As an editor of such texts, it is equally crucial to recognize when non-English sources are being quoted and cited, to query these professionally and appropriately as needed, and to offer your clients the proper options to make sure that their final text will be as correct and complete as possible.

If you are an editor, how do you handle such issues of presenting quotations and translations in the work you edit?

​If you are an author, which method proposed above do you prefer in your writing?

​Last fall, I had the opportunity to edit a somewhat different genre for me, but still within the scholarly realm: a 168-page English glossary of Nahuatl words, phrases, and place names, including some Hispanicized words derived from Nahuatl.

​As a linguist who has spent countless hours consulting dictionaries over the years, and with an academic interest in historical linguistics and language-teaching materials, I jumped at the chance to put this massive list of words in consistent and consultable order.

​First of all: What is a glossary, and how does it differ from a dictionary? According to the Concise Oxford English Dictionary (12th ed.), a glossary is “an alphabetical list of words relating to a specific subject, text or dialect, with explanations.”

​So, a glossary contains a list of chosen words found in a specific text, unlike a dictionary, which lists all words. In the case of a bilingual glossary, a list of words in one language are defined in a second language. (And of course I can’t omit mentioning that the word glossary ultimately derives from the ancient Greek word glossa, meaning “tongue” or “language.”)

​I originally thought that since it was in a list format, and not full sentences, this work would go much faster than a regular edit of a scholarly text. But I was completely wrong! It took me twice as long as copy editing scholarly prose with documentation, even though the glossary is based on a text that I am very familiar with, since I had already edited the main text (the English translation of a sixteenth-century Spanish text).

​Some of the extra time required may also have to do with the fact that the original manuscript required many decisions to be made regarding format and consolidation of entries (and sometimes addition of entries), as well as much searching throughout the document.

Here are ten specific tasks involved in editing this glossary and elements I had to look out for:

1. Reviewing and reordering the terms according to letter-by-letter alphabetization, as the original glossary had been alphabetized word-by-word.

​2. Devising a consistent format for presenting the main terms and their variant spellings (in this case, in bold), linguistic notes (e.g., etymology), literal translations, and main definitions within the entries, and ensuring that the punctuation within the entries remained consistent for each element.

​3. Cross-checking throughout the glossary any word used within the definitions that also appears as a main term itself, to ensure that the spelling is consistent throughout all entries.

​4. Consolidating repetitive terms or variant spellings of the same term into one entry and properly listing the variants.

​5. Maintaining the definition only at the entry for the singular form of a term, when the plural form of the word also had its own entry as a term.

​6. Double checking that all glossary terms were actually used in the main text.

​7. Making sure that the glossary terms match the spelling and capitalization of how they are presented in the main text. The fact that I had copy edited the main text and had developed an extensive style sheet that included terms and names was a huge help in this regard and a welcome resource.

​8. When definitions did not ring true, finding the use of the term in question in the main text to ensure that the glossary definition indeed coincided with the description in the main text.

​9. Checking all Latin genus and species names of plants and animals used in definitions, because they were not always spelled correctly (and making sure that they were italicized, as indicated by the chosen style guide).

​10. Performing regular copy-editing tasks on the definitions and explanations, such as correcting capitalization, spelling, and punctuation, and adjusting expression as needed.

​As you can imagine, this work required a lot of searching up and down, back and forth, throughout the glossary text.

​And I realized that I also seemed to be using some of my indexing skills!

​For example, a term or name derived from another term on the list would require a “see” cross-reference to the base term, so as to avoid repeating definitions unnecessarily and to highlight the relationship between the two terms.

​Also, similar to choosing main entries and subentries in indexing, here I frequently had to choose a main glossary term under which variant spellings—originally listed as their own main entries—needed to be moved.

​Likewise, when the plural form of a singular term was listed as its own entry, it was sufficient to indicate in the entry only that it was the plural form of the already-listed singular form, since the main definition did not have to be listed twice. This felt much like cross-referencing in indexing.

​Such similarities are actually not surprising, since both a glossary and a back-of-book index provide a list of words based on the main text, which aids the reader in accessing or understanding the main text.

​As this was the first lengthy glossary that I have edited, I don’t know if editing other glossaries would be as complicated, time-consuming, or involved as this one. But I now understand the unique set of issues to be considered when approaching the glossary genre and look forward to more of this type of work.

Update: For an excellent overview of how to write and edit a glossay, see "How to write a glossary" by editor Hazel Bird.

Have you worked on a new genre recently that let you gain new experience? Or are you preparing a text for publication that may benefit from including a glossary?

*A version of this blog post was originally published on the CIEP blog, 15 April 2022.

How can editors earn more money in their freelance editing business? Carla DeSantis discusses the advice presented by Malini Devadas at a Toronto CIEP (Chartered Institute of Editing and Proofreading) local group meeting:

• Common mistakes when setting rates
• Mindset and strategy
• Marketing your freelance editing business

​​One of the benefits of being a CIEP member is the option to participate in local group meetings—getting to know other local editors, sharing information, and making collegial connections. As the global pandemic forced groups online, one advantage has been the ability not only to include Canadian editors outside of Toronto but also to host guest speakers from around the world at these local gatherings.

​ In January 2022, Toronto CIEP local group coordinator Janet MacMillan invited Malini Devadas, based in Australia, to speak to our group on how to earn more money in our freelance editing businesses. At the time, in addition to her other services, Malini was coaching editors through her business Edit Boost, helping editors to find more clients and earn more money. She now focuses on​ coaching academic writers.

Malini began the Toronto CIEP session by outlining four common mistakes that editors make when thinking about their rates:

1. Worrying about what others charge
2. Assuming that you know what clients will pay, without basing that assumption on data
3. Devaluing your own time and skills
4. Underestimating how long a job will take, which could lead to overestimating earnings and underquoting

​In order to counter these common mistakes that editors can make in their businesses, Malini suggested adopting the following mindset and strategy:

​How do you help your target client? When content marketing, talk about the issues that are of interest to your clients, not necessarily to other editors. What are your clients worrying about? According to Malini, it most likely is not simply punctuation and word choice. Show your clients that you can solve their problems for them. Since Malini also coaches academic and scholarly authors, she emphasized the need to normalize the idea of academics being edited.

​As an editor, you may be limited by your schedule, what you need to earn, and your expertise. It is important to determine when you do not have the subject expertise necessary for a project and to perhaps pass it on to a suitable colleague. If a client is not able to pay what you need to earn in order to properly complete a job, it is okay to say no. Conversely, if you do not really want the job or already have too much work on your plate, you could possibly charge more (like a rush fee).

​Frequently, editors figure out what this amount is by working backwards from what their expenses are. It is important to take into consideration any specialized skills or knowledge that you may have, professional designations, or how long you have been an editor. While it is easy to assume that certain disciplines (such as academia) may pose an unspoken limit on acceptable rates, Malini suggested that editors should not generalize about a discipline’s ability to pay, as sources of revenue may exist, despite your assumptions.

​Everyone needs sleep and rest, even (or especially) editors! It is important for freelance editors to adopt a mindset that allows them to plan for life balance within their work schedule.

If you focus your message on your ideal clients, you will automatically repel the clients who are not right for you. And remember, you do not necessarily need a lot of clients per year, just the right number of key clients to keep you busy for the time that you wish to be working (this could work out to, for example, twelve clients a year, if your average project lasts a month—fewer if you factor in vacation time). If you focus on marketing to the right people, you will get more inquiries from those potential clients who have the budget to pay your desired rates. If you are able to increase the number of inquiries coming in, you may then be able to earn more money by working fewer hours (which leads to #4 above). And remember #2 above: you do not have to take every job.

So, what should freelance editors’ marketing strategy include in order to increase inquiries and, consequently, their ability to raise rates? Malini suggested using the some of the following sources:

​The key, however, is to use whatever platform you are comfortable with, as long as you do some form of marketing.

I am grateful that the Toronto CIEP group provided a forum for our local group to connect with Malini at our meeting. The international editing community has been lucky to have someone like Malini as a resource to constantly encourage us to value our skills, services, and time. I have taken many of Malini’s suggestions into account over the past several years and have seen my business and income grow as a result. It is easy for freelance editors—frequently working in isolation—to undervalue themselves without cause. Malini’s main message, which is one that all freelance editors should embrace, is that editors running their own businesses offer significant value that should be properly compensated. Confidence to advocate for ourselves is key.

​What strategies have you used to increase the income from your freelance editing business? Did it involve changing your mindset?

​September 2021 marks ten years of Carla DeSantis Editing! After ten years, I still relish the feeling of digging into a new manuscript, always learning something new in the process. To mark this occasion, I did some reflecting on where my numbers stand, where I started, where I am now, and what I have learned over the years.

​5900 hours
69 editing projects
48 professional development courses/seminars/meetings/conferences
35 clients
6 indexing projects
4 professional memberships
1 indexing award

​What has changed from September 2011 to September 2021? A lot! Ten years ago, a university press brought me on to my first professional editing project as a subject specialist who had also done some editing in the past. Since the author wanted to work on paper and not onscreen, I was handed huge boxes filled with stacks of pages of a two-volume, one thousand-page manuscript and a copy of the Concise Oxford English Dictionary. I would be editing with pencil and paper, using traditional proofreading markup.

​I had to hit the ground running and learn on the go, researching proofing symbols, best practices, etc. “And of course you will have to check what Chicago says about this,” said the series editor in reference to a particular point. “What is Chicago?” I asked. Awkward silence. “You will have to know Chicago; you can buy a copy.” 

​I was lucky that the other copy editor for the series, who had been working on the volumes for years, was patient and ended up serving as a mentor to me, fielding any questions that I had, elucidating the series style sheet that she had developed, discussing points of style that arose—even coming to my house to instruct me on how the pages should be marked up for typesetting.

​They didn’t give me a deadline. I worked on the pages very part-time, as it fit into my schedule. But at one point, I remember thinking how incredibly happy I was to be doing this work: engaging with the text and the language in such an intimate way, using my academic skills to help another academic achieve their publishing goals, drawing on some of my subject specialties for a new purpose, feeling intellectually stimulated every day. I knew then that I had found my new career.

​For a few years, I had only this one client, until I realized that I could make a real business out of this, get training, and expand my client base. I read everything I could about editing and the profession.

• I now edit exclusively onscreen, using MS Word Track Changes function and marking up PDF proofs in Adobe when necessary. I make use of specialized editing software, such as PerfectIt, which aids in the task of maintaining consistency in a text, and the designated indexing software CINDEX.

• I now know The Chicago Manual of Style only too well and keep it next to me (or refer to it online) constantly as I edit.

​

• I have a varied roster of clients, ranging from university presses to scholarly journals to individual scholars preparing their manuscripts for publication.

 

• I have had training and continue to pursue my professional development on a regular basis.

 

• I have added indexing and translation to the services that I offer.

 

• I have developed an editing niche, working on nonfiction scholarly texts in the humanities and social sciences, specializing in multilingual texts.

 

• I work at my business full-time.

​1. The experience of editing on hard copy with a pencil was actually very good training! I wouldn’t want to go back to it now, mind you, but engagement with the manuscript and proof pages in such a physical way helped to deepen my understanding of the full publication process in many ways. For one thing, I had a lot more interaction with the typesetter when dealing with the hard copies; now I have none.

​2. Professional memberships have been crucial to my business for several reasons. First, most of the training I received has been through professional editing associations. Second, my online profiles in their member directories have helped me to expand my client base, as many clients find me there. Third, they have allowed me to develop a network of fellow editors and indexers. We learn from one another, send referrals to one another, and discuss aspects of our business that only those in the field can relate to. And editors and indexers are just nice people!

​3. Sometimes you have to spend money to make money. This goes hand in hand with number 2 above. When I started out, I wasn’t making a lot of money and resisted joining professional associations, since the membership fees seemed expensive. However, once I did spend the money and join one, my online profile gave me the exposure necessary to bring in new clients. Getting even one client from the online profile usually covers the cost of membership. So, little by little, I increased my exposure by joining more associations, and it has paid off. Also, investing in software will make your work more efficient and keep you up to date.

​4. Specializing is an advantage, not a limitation. When I started out, I thought that I could do everything, including possibly scientific plain language. Nope! Stick with what you know. By focusing on my expertise in the humanities and languages, I am able to provide expert service to my clients without compromise. I have expanded my editorial areas to include social sciences and some business topics, but I will leave STEM and other subject areas in which I am not versed to editorial specialists in those areas. I would not attempt to edit fiction, for example, as the criteria for editing fiction differs significantly from that for nonfiction.

​5. Track your time from the very beginning. Knowing how long it takes to edit or index is crucial when estimating how long a project will take and therefore how much you will charge a client. You don’t need anything fancy; I use a simple Excel spreadsheet for every project to track my time. At the end of the project, you can then figure out how many words per hour you edited (or pages per hour you indexed) and use this information to guide future estimates.

​6. Be realistic about how many hours you can work in a week. Most editors seem to say that five hours a day is the limit for actual editing tasks, and I would agree. You will spend the other hours doing administrative tasks, marketing, fielding emails, etc. But the intensity and concentration involved in editing or indexing onscreen means that you may not be as effective after five hours of dedicated work. If you can limit your work to Monday to Friday and have your weekends free, all the better! I have tried to do this so as to align my schedule with the other members of my family who work traditional business and school hours.

​7. You don’t need to know everything—just how and where to find the information. Although I say that I know The Chicago Manual of Style “only too well,” of course it is impossible to know or remember everything in the 1144-page volume. No editor will have completely memorized any style guide, I think! So, whether an edit is based on Chicago style, MLA, or APA, it is crucial to have access to the guides and know how to find the information in them.

​If you are dealing with citations and bibliographies, WorldCat and Google Scholar should be open on your screen for easy access to that information. Google is your friend when fact checking, and if your brief does not include extensive fact checking, do not hesitate to query the author when necessary. Dictionaries, in conjunction with your style guide, can serve as the authorities for spellings, hyphenation, and/or capitalization.

​Blogs by fellow editors contain a wealth of editing knowledge, such as those by Erin Brenner, Louise Harnby, and Denise Cowle, and Grammar Girl helps to tease out some of those pesky grammatical rules. And sometimes, if you just can’t find the answer yourself, you can ask in an online editors’ forum, within a professional association forum, Facebook group, or even on Twitter (editors are very generous with their time and information).

​8. The first few years may be lean, until you build up a client base and get your name out there. This seems to be the norm when developing a freelance business, and patience (and possibly a small nest egg) may be necessary.

9. A standing desk is worth it. If you can get one, do so. Sitting all day is hard on your body. I try to sit half the day, stand half the day. And a second screen is extremely useful (essential for indexing).

10. I learn something new every day! This is the true joy of being a scholarly editor and indexer. I constantly have the privilege of reading new research on a variety of interesting topics every day and helping my clients to get their important message across in the clearest way possible. Here is just a sampling of the varied topics I get to work on:

• encyclopedia of sixteenth-century Aztec culture

• handbook on Islamic ethics
• baptismal fonts in medieval Denmark
• memory in the family-saga genre
• displacing Black residents in twentieth-century Halifax
• video game–induced tourism
• health and healing in the early modern Iberian world
• time and narrative in Marlon James’s A Brief History of Seven Killings
• women wrestlers in 1950s Mexico City

​I owe much to my fellow editors and indexers for their collegiality and generosity over the years, to those who have instructed me in the craft, and to my clients for their always interesting and challenging written words. Thank you! I look forward to meeting more editor and indexer colleagues, and welcoming new clients in the years to come!

If you run your own business, how have your work and processes changed over the years? What have you learned? What would you change?

It’s been a tough year. Civic and political unrest in the United States, Brexit, a worldwide pandemic, military rule in Myanmar, religious and political extremism, among others. While you may wish to express your opinion on such issues in personal social media accounts, examining both current and historical issues in a professional or scholarly context intended for publication requires a different approach.

​How do you get your message across in a way that will convince your readers and not set them on edge? This question is particularly pertinent in academic and scholarly nonfiction, in which the writer is seen as the expert imparting important information to the audience. Your job as an authority is to present your research and draw conclusions in such a way that your readers follow along with you and then draw their own conclusions based on your evidence—without being told how to feel about it. That is something that should be left up to readers to discover for themselves, when faced with the evidence presented. Otherwise, a writer risks possibly alienating readers or making them feel manipulated by the text.

​Here are some tips for approaching possibly controversial issues in your writing.

Using such words can convey an implicit judgment rather than presenting objective information. The reader does not want to be “told” how to feel, and the use of loaded adjectives, adverbs, nouns, verbs, and expressions risks this scenario.

​For example, a situation or act may be “heinous,” “monstrous,” or “reprehensible” in your mind, but if it truly is, your reader will reach the same conclusion based on the facts that you present without having to employ such adjectives. Is someone really “radical” in the true sense of the word, or does using that adjective simply reflect someone with a political view opposite to yours?

​Likewise with adverbs, saying that something is “unequivocally true,” for example, is risky, implying that there is not another side to the issue that may be considered. If you must include a potentially loaded adjective, adding an adverbial qualifier like “seemingly” (e.g., “seemingly vindictive”) may help to imply that it is your opinion and not a generally accepted fact.

​Unless you are discussing actual historical events and entities that have traditionally been denoted as such—such as the medieval Crusades and the British Empire—loaded nouns such as “crusade,” “empire,” “tyrant,” for example, applied to other events and people, could be seen as problematic and judgmental. Perhaps reword to “oppressive powers” or other appropriate phrasing that does not imply your personal opinion in such an obvious way. Are people who believe in a particular cause actually “activists,” or does using that word again reflect your opinion on those who do not share your views?

Consider the following statement recently sent in an email regarding a local school board: “I am disappointed that the Trustees have not bounced these militant … conquest demands right out the door.”​ As the reader, my eye immediately goes to the words “bounced,” “militant,” “conquest demands,” and “out the door.” Is the writer truly dealing with people bearing weapons (militant)? Are the people implicated in the statement attempting to overthrow the school board (conquest) and need to be escorted out (bounced … out the door)? Upon further research, it is clear that the writer is referring to people whose opinions and advocacy clash with the writer’s own beliefs—no armed attack is involved. However, by using this language, the attempt is to manipulate a reader to agree with this view; yet as the reader, I feel manipulated in the opposite direction, to the point that I no longer consider the writer as credible.

Even simply adding verb phrases such as “appears to be” or “seems” will go a long way in tempering the message when you are tempted to present what is actually your opinion as a statement of fact.

In general, addressing readers in the second-person you is best avoided in scholarly nonfiction and formal contexts. This is especially true when discussing potentially controversial subjects.

A statement such as “You would have to be blind not to see that the current regime and radical activists have hijacked the better policy off course,” for example, (1) tells the readers directly how they should view the situation by using the second person ("You would have …"); (2) declares the author’s stance in the situation, judgment, and which side is supported through the use of loaded words such as “blind,” “regime,” “radical activists,” “hijacked,” and “better”; and (3) uses a questionable metaphor by employing the word “blind” to denote a lack of understanding rather than an actual physical disability. (n.b. The example of referring to potential readers as “blind” has come from my actual experience as an editor, on more than one occasion.) This statement is not an impartial depiction, and your reader may not react favourably to this.

A revision may result in something like this: “A review of the available sources reveals that the current government and its supporters have veered the policy in a different direction, that is, <specifics about policy>.” Tame your emotions, present the facts, be specific, and allow the readers to draw their own conclusions from your meticulously documented content.

It is not easy to write about contentious situations. It is important to remember your context, audience, retain credibility, and avoid sensationalism. If the facts of a situation are in fact egregious, your intelligent reader will understand this by the facts themselves that you have offered. If you are attempting to change people’s minds on an issue, the use of neutral language and facts can go a long way in achieving your goal. 

​If you write about controversial topics, what specific techniques do you use to present your arguments in a way that is accessible to your reader?

​Christmas or Xmas?

​Some years ago when I was working on my children’s school council, one of the communications volunteers received a complaint from some parents after a brief communication went out asking for volunteers for a “Xmas” event. The complaint? That the use of Xmas was “taking the Christ out of Christmas.” In fact, in recent years, there seems to have been some backlash in North America over the use of Xmas as a shortened version for Christmas, claiming that the use of the abbreviation is an attempt to secularize Christmas.

On the contrary, the use of X for Christ has a long and rich Christian tradition. The Greek letter X (chi) has been used as an abbreviation for Christ for over a thousand years, derived from the the first two letters of the word Christ in Greek (Χριστός), chi (X) and rho (ρ or R).​ The Chi-Rho symbol is evident in the earliest Christian inscriptions, such as those on tombs in the Catacombs, and was even taken up by the Roman emperor Constantine (AD 306–337) for his standard. This symbol is still used in churches today.

The use of X alone as an abbreviation for the Latin form Christus is evident in medieval manuscripts, produced at a time when materials were expensive and abbreviations necessary to ease scribes’ work of writing out lengthy texts completely by hand.​ Even with the arrival of the printing press, the abbreviation was maintained, for typesetting was still tedious and expensive. The abbreviation X continued on even to modern printing, with the Catholic Church itself using this abbreviation to save cost and space in its publications.

Within an English context, we know that Samuel Taylor Coleridge used the abbreviation Xmas in an 1801 letter, although it seems that an earlier attestation of its form appears in a letter written by King Edward VI in 1551 (Xtemmas​, with a titulus over the X). 

As with any abbreviation, the context of your writing matters. If you are preparing a formal text, such as a scholarly work for publication or perhaps a policy document, then you may want to avoid such abbreviation in your main text and, in this case, use Christmas. However,  using the abbreviation Xmas is acceptable, in my opinion, for any informal writing (personal communications, emails, memos, social media), where you are pressed for space or time.

So, as you are making your lists and sending your holiday greetings this time of year, if you choose to go ahead and use this common abbreviation in your informal writing, know that you are in good company. Because, if X for Christus was good enough for medieval and incunabula Bibles, and modern Church materials, it should be okay for your emails. Christ is very much in Xmas, a term that does not signify disrespect or omission but rather draws on a long-standing tradition of religious and textual use. If you celebrate this Christian holiday, I wish you a Merry X/Christmas—whichever you prefer!

​I still yearn for my “Summer of Reading.” It was the summer after grade 8—that awkward age when you are too young for a job, too old for some camps—and I had the now-longed-for luxury of time. I consumed a large number of books, lying on my bed reading V.C. Andrews’s creepy Flowers in the Attic and afterwards racing to the store with my friend to get the second book in the trilogy, to quench our thirst for more. Lounging in my screened-in porch, I dug into S.E. Hinton’s The Outsiders and devoured To Kill a Mockingbird while sitting under a tree. Not all of them were classics but popular YA choices from a certain decade. It was glorious.

Recently, when recalling that care-free time of life, I realized that for most of my adult life I have been reading on a deadline. Many years spent in university and graduate school left little time for outside reading, having to read assigned texts and research material late into the night. In fact, when I finished my doctorate, my brother’s gift to me was a paperback of E.M. Forster’s Where Angels Fear to Tread. Implying a distinction between required reading and reading for pleasure, his note said, “Now you will have time to read.”

​Since then, I have been part of a book club for the past seventeen years, and although the reading certainly is for pleasure, I am still reading with the deadline of the monthly book-club meeting looming. Over the past nine years, I have developed my career as a professional editor, a job that allows me to read—happily!—for a living. But of course such editorial work is deadline driven, based on clients’ needs and my own project management.

​All of this makes me wonder: What does reading on a deadline mean for reading practices? Does it change how we read?

​A 2016 article in The Atlantic discusses the effects of mandatory reading logs on kids, in this age when recreational reading is on the decline, in competition with screen time. The results of the study examined? Reading logs diminished the children’s interest in reading.

As an adult, I have to say that regularly reading on a deadline has not diminished my thirst for recreational reading. After long hours spent editing and reading text, I still turn to my book at the end of the night for relaxation—for my time. I have to read for pleasure to make my day complete. More specifically, I have to read fiction to counter the nonfiction reading that I do all day long. Does this need go back to my unfettered recreational reading as a child? Although television certainly was a powerful lure and favourite activity for me back then, perhaps it did not vie with my leisure reading in the way that the pervasiveness and ubiquity of screens and other media do for today’s youth.

I don’t have complete answers yet to the two questions posed above. But maybe the key is that reading on a deadline helps to make you an efficient reader. And reading on a deadline makes you read—which is always a good thing.

​Then the time spent in reading what you want, when you want, for how long you want becomes that much more delicious.

​What does reading on a deadline mean for you? Does it affect your reading habits?

​It’s a new year, and many people make resolutions to edit their lives, so to speak: exercise more, eat or drink less, get their homes in order by editing out unneeded objects.

​What about editing yourself, as in your words?

​A few weeks ago, I was engaged in a group email interchange (personal, not business) involving a decision to be made, which left me frustrated with the way things were going. In a final act of exasperation—and perhaps acting too truthfully—I typed “I really don’t care” as my final response. But as my finger hovered over the “Send” button, my editor’s brain kicked in and gave me pause. My reply sounded too flippant. Would I leave something like that in a client’s document, or would I tweak it for better diction and tone? I decided to revise my response to “It doesn’t matter to me,” taking the onus off of “I,” placing it on the issue (“it”), and changing the verb from one of personal emotion to impersonal import.

This exercise made me wonder just how much self-editing people really do in their daily communications and how this simple act of taking a few extra minutes may make a difference in how others receive your message. In this age of texting, tweeting, and email—producing irretrievable and uneditable content once sent—it is more important than ever to edit yourself before clicking “Send.”

Take Steve Jobs, for example. He was notorious for sending short, blunt emails, as in this response to a customer’s complaint about service for his self-inflicted water-damaged MacBook Pro:

​Sure, Steve Jobs could say whatever he wanted to, but most of us can’t afford to. If Steve had edited himself, the more polite, less accusatory alternative might look something like this:

​A local elected official recently sent this email response to a constituent:

​Whoa! How could this have been expressed differently, in order to come across less antagonistic while still expressing disagreement? Perhaps:

​In this case, the writer could have stepped back and taken account of the tone of the reply before sending. By changing the emphasis from “you” to “I” in the rewrite, the writer shifts the recipient’s perceived wrongdoing to the writer’s experience and perception of it.

​So, here are a few tips to consider the next time you send off that email, text, or tweet:

​If what you have just read makes your blood boil, walk away from the keyboard. That’s right—get away, and now! Give yourself a couple of hours—or even better, overnight—to think it over before replying. You will be in a much better place to write a thoughtful and less emotional response. Also, do not reply to emails or tweet late at night, when you are tired and your judgment may not be at its best.

​Make sure you read what you have written for tone. Read it out loud, so that you can hear how it sounds to someone else. Is it unnecessarily antagonistic, or is it respectful? Will the message offend in any way? Do you get your message across clearly, or is it bogged down by emotional language? Your message should read in such a way that it would not be embarrassing to you if it were to be forwarded to others or even published for public consumption.

​Notice that in the original examples provided above, both writers—Steve Jobs and the official—used “you” to highlight what the recipient of the message did wrong. This will put the recipient on the offensive, and you want to avoid that. Avoid direct insults or words that imply lack of engagement. Consider inserting a conciliatory or positive phrase to begin with (e.g. “I appreciate your input”). Replace with phrasing that puts the onus on the organization (e.g., “Our service policy …”) or on your own experience of the situation (e.g., “I do not completely agree …”). Sometimes the use of some well-chosen adverbs can soften the tone as well (e.g. “unfortunately,” “usually,” “completely”).

​The best-written content is brought down by blatant errors; they distract your reader and make you look unprofessional. Check for spelling and grammar errors. Make sure that proper names are spelled correctly and that you are using the right titles for people. If you are unsure, use the tools at your disposal, such as spell check and grammar check. If you are citing dates or other facts, make sure that you verify them.

​Remember, we frequently use our digital communication as a means of “conversation,” yet, unlike face-to-face conversations, tone can frequently be misconstrued in written text. Avoid unintentional consequences by taking the time and making the effort to edit your own words.

What methods do you use to ensure that your digital communication reflects both your tone and your message respectfully? Have you ever sent a message and wished you could get it back? What platforms do you find require the most effort in self-editing?

This week I began a lengthy editing project, copyediting a critical edition of a medieval Latin text, accompanied by its English translation—a completely satisfying, challenging, and enjoyable job that is reminding me of my previous experience with medieval manuscripts (see my previous blog) and writing my own critical edition. This work makes me ponder, once again, the connections between copyediting and manuscript editing, which consists of transcribing the ancient script; choosing, eliminating, or editing the readings of various manuscript witnesses; and finding the sources on which the text may have drawn, in order to bring the text into readable form for the modern reader. What are some of the skills necessary for editing medieval Latin manuscripts and how have they informed what I do today when copyediting academic materials and bringing these texts into more readable form for my clients?

​Palaeography
Palaeography is the study of “old writing” (from Greek palaios “ancient” + graphē “writing”). The scripts in which ancient and medieval manuscripts were written vary from Roman cursive and Caroline minuscule to Gothic textualis and many more, according to when and where the manuscript was written. Since medieval scribes were writing by hand, and materials were expensive, an extensive system of abbreviations developed to save both time and space. As a result, even the most talented linguist may have difficulty interpreting these writings—which may appear as a foreign alphabet—without the proper training. In fact, an entire dictionary, Cappelli’s Lexicon abbreviaturarum, indispensable for a palaeographer, is dedicated to these abbreviations. As the English translation of Cappelli’s introduction says, ​“Take a foreign language, write it in an unfamiliar script, abbreviating every third word, and you have the compound puzzle that is the medieval Latin manuscript.”

​Learning the complex system of symbols that indicate truncation or contraction of words is akin to learning a new language. Intense attention to such details as, for example, whether a horizontal mark is straight or curved like a tilde, or whether a loop appears on the ascender or descender of a letter makes the difference in how a word will be expanded and interpreted. Every little mark and squiggle must be noted as a clue to unravelling the puzzle.

​So, if you are accustomed to editing the intricacies of medieval scripts, when copyediting modern texts, subtle changes in formatting, such as in font or line spacing, italicized commas or not, heading levels, and lack of closing quotation marks may jump off the page at you. It means that having to maintain the rule patterns for interpreting a particular manuscript script and its particular abbreviations may help you to maintain a consistent pattern of capitalization and punctuation within a modern text.

Collating Manuscript Readings
Say you have two or three manuscripts containing the same medieval text. Since manuscripts (i.e., “handwritten,” from Latin manus “hand” + scriptum “written”) were copied by individual people, these copies most likely were copied by different scribes. Different scribes had different linguistic and copying talents—some better, some worse. In fact, a scribe whose Latin was not completely up to par may have misinterpreted some of those abbreviations described above and copied in a wrong word. Or after copying thousands of words and growing weary, one of the scribes may have inadvertently skipped over several words or even an entire line; as a result, the text is transmitted without those words that exist in the original copy. These examples of scribal errors lead to different readings, and the job of the editor of medieval manuscripts is to collate the manuscripts in order to get back to the most complete and correct version of the text.

​Painstakingly, line by line, word by word, each of these different manuscripts have to be compared in order to assess which manuscript has the best reading and when the editor needs to intervene with an insertion, omission, or edit. Sound familiar? In the same way, the copyeditor’s goal is to present the most correct and clear version of a text. We don’t want to have to intervene except when absolutely necessary—just like the editor of medieval manuscripts—but we do need to correct errors in grammar, syntax, or expression so that our clients’ message may reach their readers in the clearest and most accessible form possible.
​

The Medieval Detective
Sometimes working with manuscripts resembles detective work. For example, if the editor of a medieval manuscript is able to trace similarities in technique, phrasing, or the exact same passage in an anonymous work to a manuscript with an established author, that is how attributions can be made. Similarly, a good copyeditor may remember that an author is repeating a passage word for word from a previous chapter and suggest some structural editing in order to avoid the redundancy. Or a copyeditor may recognize an uncited passage from another work and recommend that the author provide the reference, thus avoiding embarrassment for the client.

​So, for the next few months I happily get to apply my copyediting skills to a Latin/English text, complete with critical apparatus outlining how the various manuscripts differ. This is definitely a specialized niche edit, but that is what I love about my job as a freelance editor: Not only am I constantly learning, when editing subject areas that are new to me—such as the sociology of housing in Nova Scotia or the history of Indian chintz—but frequently my clients also draw on my specialized skills, a happy scenario for both them and me.

If you are an editor, do you have a niche? What are the advantages of offering niche versus general editing? What specialized skills do you have to draw on when editing in your niche for clients?

​My husband’s quest for a minimalist home is futile. He longs for clean lines, mostly empty white shelves, while I feel panicked and see the house as soulless if those shelves are bare of my books. While I do continually purge my collection, the liberated spaces are quickly filled by new acquisitions.

Having watched a few episodes of “Tidying Up with Marie Kondo” on Netflix together didn’t help matters. “See? You just hold the book in your hand and see if it sparks joy or not!” While I can see that working with socks or spatulas, my relationship with books is much more involved and complicated for disposal to be reduced to such simplicity.

Can the range of emotions sparked be whittled down simply to “joy” or not? Jane Eyre? Love in the Time of Cholera? Joy, yes, joy! But also loss and love and betrayal and heartbreak. The Handmaid’s Tale? No, definitely not joy. But thought provoking, cautionary, timely. The Orenda? Some joy, but mainly respect, awe, sadness. 201 French Verbs? Not joy per se, but helpful. 

Quoted in a recent Toronto Star article, editorial director Amanda Lewis says, “Books don’t always ‘spark joy’ for me, and nor should they. They spark outrage, contentment, uneasiness, so I keep a variety of books in my home that inspire a range of emotional and intellectual responses.” Yes, I agree that is the purpose of books.

Some books also have sentimental value, such as those written by friends or received as gifts for special occasions, such as graduations. And don’t get me started on my infatuation with and reverence for my Oxford Dictionary or Lewis and Short’s A Latin Dictionary, with their tissue-like pages …

Then there are the books that sit on my shelf but have not yet been read. Does that mean that they do not “spark joy” or are not useful? When my father passed away, I took into my life many books from his vast library, mainly those on literature, Italian art, and history. Some of those books have sat on my shelf for 20 years. And yet, finally one day, I found my daughter engrossed in The Adventure of Archaeology. It filled my heart and filled her mind – and all because the book happened to be sitting next to her on the shelf at the right time. As a budding artist, she is now able to tuck into my father’s Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain, which I myself had never used. When the kids had to do a project on mythology, I was able to pluck Dad’s Gods and Mortals in Classical Mythology off the shelf and place it in their hands.

Access to a wide-ranging home library allows children to explore at will and spark imagination. In fact, studies have shown that “having 80 or more books in a home results in adults with significantly higher levels of literacy, numeracy, and information communication technology (ICT) skills.” In her book The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up, Marie Kondo admits to limiting her book collection to 30 at any one time.

In her online article for Inc., writer Jessica Stillman points to unread books as a source to keep you “intellectually hungry and perpetually curious.” She references Nassim Nicholas Taleb, who wrote in The Black Swan:

Kevin Mims, in his 2018 New York Times article, takes Taleb’s term “antilibrary” to task, preferring the Japanese term tsundoku, meaning acquiring books for later reading (lit. “piling up”). Mims opines: “A person’s library is often a symbolic representation of his or her mind. … The man with an ever-expanding library understands the importance of remaining curious, open to new ideas and voices.”

​I think that’s the clincher: perusing my bookshelves tells me and others something about my mind and my interests, where I’ve been, where I’m going – a sort of roadmap of my life – and gives me the chance to share that with others in a tangible way. My books hold memories and emotions, which can be relived on call. My unread books represent potential for more learning, for letting imagination soar once again, and the promise of another day of experiencing something new within the pages in the near future.

​So maybe the varied range of negative and positive emotions experienced when holding a book does, in fact, equal a type of joy in the end, and that is what Marie Kondo is getting at? I think I'll stick with tsundoku.

​What do you think your personal library says about you? Do you agree with Taleb’s notion of the antilibrary? Or do you prefer the KonMari method of purging books?

​A couple of weeks ago, my daughter came home with a less-than-stellar grade on her history test. When I asked about it, her reply came as a shock to me: “Why do we even need to learn history? We need to look to the future instead of the past.”

​Now, I am all for forward thinking, but as someone who has spent most of her life thinking and learning about what past cultures have done, thought, and written – mainly in the context of language and literature – and how this has impacted and influenced modern thought, language, and literature, I had to stop and really think about what her reply means.

​Is my daughter’s view indicative of this new generation? Are we failing to impart the importance of history in school and in the family setting? I began to worry and plan a “history intervention.”

​My daughter’s comment happened to come upon the heels of the abominable and tragic mass murder of Jews targeted in their Pittsburgh synagogue. So, while I had my 13-year-old trapped in the car on the way to school, I took the opportunity to explain how the oppression and persecution of Jews throughout history – from Ancient Egypt to the Holocaust and even now – provide a sobering context for this atrocity, a context that underlines the enormity of present-day anti-Semiticism.

​And perhaps that is one of the most important factors in learning history: it provides context for humankind and helps us to understand where we have been, where we are, and where we may be going. How are we to understand who we are as a people without knowing where we have been and what we have done? We all know the commonplace – and I believe, true – notion of being able to learn from history, but here are a few other thoughts in defence of history.

​Starting at a small, nuclear level, let’s talk about family “history.” We are not created in a bubble; the people around us – our family – help to make us who we are. Our family helps to give us a sense of “identity.” And not just our immediate family, but those who came before us as well. Values, culture, tradition provide a grounding of self that cannot be underestimated.

​A sense of family history can also provide a source of empathy. For example, my grandparents came as immigrants from Italy to the New World with little more than the clothes on their backs. They believed in the “American dream,” and in many ways were successful in achieving it. My daughter accompanied me to Ellis Island, where we found my grandparents’ names etched in the American immigrant wall of honour, a monument to those who had arrived there during the great waves of early 20th-century immigration. She sat with her brothers on the doorstep of the house in Calabria that her great-grandfather had built and where her grandmother grew up. I am hoping that she will realize that this is her personal history.

​My children have reaped the advantages of their great-grandparents’ sacrifices and should live life with the appreciation (I hope) that others have paved the way for them, similar to what the wise Maya Angelou expressed: “I'm grateful to those who went before me so that I can do what I'm supposed to do for those who are yet to come.” When dealing with new immigrants in their own lives, I would hope that my children will have a strong sense of empathy, remembering that they themselves descend from immigrants.

​This is not to say at all that family history should define someone; however, understanding one’s family story – that is, history or “context” – may provide an informed foundation from which to move forward.

​My daughter is growing up in Canada, a country that shares not only the longest international border with the USA but also many cultural similarities. Despite these similarities, however, the differences are significant enough to make Canada a country very distinct from the USA.

​Only by learning Canadian history will she be able to appreciate the cultural duality of Anglo-Franco Canada, which surrounds her every day in her French lessons taught in public school and the bilingual packaging on everything we buy. Only by learning Canadian history will she be able to have true empathy for what the First Nations people have endured in this country. Only by studying Canadian history will she gain a true understanding of why Canada has always been distinct from its US neighbour  – its founding first by the French, its strong links to the British Crown, the lack of a constitutional right to bear arms – thus fostering and promoting national identity and values.

​3. Universality of People

​What makes a literary work a classic and why? Why do we continue to read Homer, Vergil, Dante, Shakespeare, and Dickens? And why do these writers from another age continue to make modern readers weep, laugh, and recognize themselves and those around them within the pages? Because such classic writers get to the very essence of human nature, which is universal throughout the ages. Change the clothing, the language, the surroundings – but the basic themes persist.

​Here is what Ralph Waldo Emerson had to say about this notion of the commonality of humankind:

​Machiavelli proposed a similar concept in The Prince:

​If we accept the notion that the basic human passions, fears, hopes, values, emotions, and needs are timeless, then how can we not look to those who came before us for guidance? As American writer and poet Robert Penn Warren said, “History cannot give us a program for the future, but it can give us a fuller understanding of ourselves, and of our common humanity, so that we can better face the future.”

​As a professional editor, I continue to work on many books that deal with history – sometimes very far in the past – and I always appreciate the value that these authors are bringing to the world in preserving the story of humanity. And I always have much to take away from that reading for my own life and understanding, whether it be learning about the ancient notions of peace in Islam and how they link to ethics today, or the 16th-century religious controversies that fostered the variations we see in Christian churches today.

​And so, my dear daughter, if we are to play our own – however tiny – part in the history of the world, we must be able to properly acknowledge those who came before us, do our best to understand them, and, by acknowledging that we are all part of the same humanity, see ourselves as part of the historical continuum – not as boats adrift without an anchor. Whatever we presently have has been built on those who have gone before us, and we take our place in this world and add our contributions within this context. Yes, let’s look and move forward, but with the knowledge of where we have been.

What are your ideas about the value of history? Has learning history enriched your life in any way? Do you think that there should be less emphasis or more emphasis on history in public education?

​What is your style guide? Armani? American Eagle? Ralph Lauren?
 
Maybe when it comes to your fashion choices, but when writing for publication, business, or academic purposes, you need a set of guiding standards to ensure that your important work is presented in a consistent way, so that your reader can focus on your crucial message and is not distracted by the fact that “New York Times” appears within quotation marks on page 4 and in italics as New York Times on page 120. (Are you referring to two different publications, the reader may ask herself?) If you cite (Brown 2001, 120) on page 45 and (Brown, 66) on page 56, is it the same reference? And minor variations like “the United States Government” in one place and “the US government” in another will simply irritate your reader.

​A style guide provides a standard set of rules on usage in order to maintain consistency and aid reading comprehension.

​Of course your writing “style” may refer to your chosen tone, level of writing, or sentence structure. However, for our purposes here, “style” refers to consistency in grammar and syntax usage, and “rules related to capitalization, spelling, hyphenation, and abbreviations; punctuation, including ellipsis points, parentheses, and quotation marks; and the way numbers are treated” (Chicago Manual of Style, 17th ed., 2.49). The way you handle your sources and citations, both in notes and in a bibliography, is determined by a set “style.”
 
(Did you notice that my subheadings, above and below, are capitalized headline-style and not sentence-style? That is because my preferred style guide, Chicago Manual [2.18], tells me so.)

​Look at this example from Steven Pinker’s The Stuff of Thought, where I have removed the style for words and phrases under discussion:

Now here is what was actually published:

​Did you find that you had to reread the text in the first example in order to understand what were actually terms under discussion and what was the author’s actual discourse? The style choice of placing words under discussion and definitions within quotation marks, and exemplary terms in italics, aids in reading comprehension.
 
The Publication Manual of the American Psychological Association (APA) explains the importance of style as follows:

​So, as you can see, following a codified set of style rules helps you to communicate the substance and key elements of your writing clearly and accurately, so that your reader will not be distracted by minor issues of usage.

​If you are working with a publisher, they should have their own style sheet – known as “house style” – which highlights their particular preferences for usage. In addition to their house style, most publishers will also ask their authors and editors to follow a particular style guide for all other cases that the house-style sheet does not cover. Here are three of the most frequently used style guides in academic, scholarly, and professional writing:

​I admit it: I am a reference-work nerd. I love dictionaries, thesauri, grammatical texts. I create indexes. So, when I was handed CMS and told that this would be my main go-to resource as a professional editor, I was both daunted and delighted.

As I learned to navigate my way around various style guides, I realized that learning the rules and applying them to the particular context of each text that I edit reminded me of learning a foreign language – an exercise that as a trained linguist I enjoy. So, I now think of my familiarity with several style guides as knowing different “editing languages.”

​The art of editing, however, comes with realizing that not all of the style rules are set in stone, so to speak. Decisions on deviations and variations must be made by the copy editor, in conjunction with the author and the publisher, according to each particular work.
 
That is where the individual project style sheet comes in. For every work that I copy edit, I create a style sheet for the author. Usually only two pages, it highlights style decisions made that may diverge from house style or the main style guide. Conversely, I may highlight on the style sheet style changes made that are based on house style and/or the style guide so that author will know why I have changed a usage particular to his or her own style choice.

​And this is where the authority of the style guide is useful: I am able to document for the author, usually by chapter and section number (e.g., CMS 5.15), the rationale for the changes made. Authors then have a reference for the “why” of the change. And hopefully they appreciate the consistency, professionalism, and credibility that applying style brings to their text.

​So, remember: if you want to keep consistency in your writing style and present a polished, professional product – without unnecessary formatting distractions for your reader – keep a style guide by your side (or on your screen, online) as you review your work. If you don’t have the time or inclination to navigate the sources and impose consistent style on your work, contact me, and I would be happy to speak my "editing languages" and do it for you.
 
Have you ever used a style guide to inform your writing? If so, which one do you prefer and why? 

​The other day a friend of mine – on the verge of sending her youngest child off to university and probably feeling nostalgic – sent me a picture of our now-21-year-old boys playing ball in the schoolyard at age 9. She and her husband are soon to become what are known as “empty nesters.”
 
The Drop Off

This week thousands of parents will be dropping off their kids at college and university – some for the very first time, some for their last time. But in every case, whether it is your first, middle, or last child going, this experience of dropping off your child for the first time – or being dropped off for the first time – is a monumental moment, among the most emotional and memorable in both parents’ and children’s lives.

​What a mix of emotions this transition is for both parents and the students heading off – a parent’s bittersweet ache of loss mixed with the excitement of knowing what is in store for their child; the child’s fear of the unknown combined with the thrill of tasting true freedom and independence, and all of the new friendships and knowledge out there waiting for them.
 
Saying Goodbye to Mom and Dad

It got me thinking about when I first left home at 17. Surprisingly, what happens in that very first week of being away from home can have lifelong consequences – and few frosh realize this.

I arrived at St. Michael's College at the University of Toronto all of those years ago accompanied by a full entourage – Mom, Dad, two sisters, brother, uncle. (I know, we are Italian – we do things big.) They moved me into my new dorm room, helped me and my new roommate Brenda get organized, but eventually the inevitable moment of parting came. My mother was brave, a bit teary, and tucked an envelope into my hand for later reading.

An Exciting First Week

I headed out to join the orientation fun as soon as possible, so as to avoid thinking about my family travelling hundreds of kilometres away from me. Brenda and I hit it off immediately and quickly became inseparable, as we immersed ourselves in the organized orientation activities. Sharing a bathroom with us was Trish, who I discovered was from a town just a couple of hours down the highway from where I grew up. We had a lot in common and found a haven in each other when the orientation activities got too out of control for our liking …
 
Getting Out There, Making New Friends

As we were divided into groups according to the “B-Movie Madness” orientation theme, Brenda and I found ourselves with “The Flies,” where we became fast friends with congenial Tony. It’s funny how, when faced with a new group of people, you naturally gravitate towards those who make you feel most comfortable, like home within a group of strangers. Together we marched down College Street in a faux-ridiculous-frosh-protest march against Michael Jackson, survived a frosh food fight at the Ukrainian Hall (those poor women, cooking …), collaborated on city-wide scavenger hunts, and really did bond.
 
On one of the social evenings, at a beer and pizza party, Tony introduced Brenda, Trish, and me to the guy living in the room below his, Reni. As it happens, his parents were from the same region in Italy where my grandfather was from. He was soft spoken and polite. Hmmm, I thought, he could be a good friend – like a brother. I will remember him.

My Parents' Drive Home

Meanwhile, it turns out that my mother, having put on a brave face for me, cried all the way home, having left her baby, the youngest of five, in a big city. She was now an “empty nester,” having had at least some kids at home for a span of 28 years. My father chatted brightly on the way home, reassuring her of how quickly I would adjust to my new situation. On that ride home, she wrote me another letter – mailed as soon as she got home – reassuring me about how positive she felt about my new life in Toronto.

A Handwritten Letter
 
However, in the quiet of the night, after the hoopla of orientation had died down, I settled into my newly made bed, in the sheets that my mother and I had picked out several weeks beforehand, and opened the letter she had left for me. Written on the hotel stationery, obviously penned the morning before leaving me, she gave me a list of “Helpful Hints” that she knew a teenager would not stand to listen to verbally, but that she wanted me to have: 

"If you’re blue – for any reason:
1. Pray and go to mass, if possible.
2. Talk to someone you respect - soon - never remain blue more than 24 hours.
3. Call home any time.
4. Do something nice for someone.
5. Smile - yours is magnetic!
If you have a problem: Do same as above, especially #2.
Remember, I love you, you can share anything with me.
                                                                 Mom"

A Professor's Advice to Parents
 
Psychology professor Marshall P. Duke expressed just that – what my mother did in her note – in his Huffington Post article, describing his orientation advice to parents at Emory College:
 
"Each child only starts college once. Given the uniqueness of the day, it falls into the category that includes wedding days, special anniversaries, even days on which family losses occurred — big days — days that stick in our memories throughout life. Such moments are rare. They have power. They give us as parents one-time opportunities to say things to our children that will stick with them not only because of what is said, but because of when it is said.

Here is what I tell the parents: think of what you want to tell your children when you finally take leave of them and they go off to their dorm and the beginning of their new chapter in life and you set out for the slightly emptier house that you will now live in. What thoughts, feelings and advice do you want to stick? 'Always make your bed!'? 'Don’t wear your hair that way!'? Surely not. This is a moment to tell them the big things. Things you feel about them as children, as people. Wise things. Things that have guided you in your life. Ways that you hope they will live. Ways that you hope they will be. Big things. Life-level things.

I tell the parents lastly, that I, myself, was never able to do this, because I was too emotional and couldn’t quite say what I wanted without crying or with a desirable level of equanimity. All is not lost, I tell them and I tell you. As soon as you can after you leave the campus, write your child a letter — with a pen — on real paper — in your own hand. The first sentence should be something like, 'When I left you at the campus today,(or at the airport , etc.) I could not tell you what I wanted to say, so I’ve written it all down.....' Mail the letter to the child. It will not be deleted; it will not be tossed away; it will be kept. Its message will stick. Always."

Treasure of the Written Word ... on Paper

Boy, was my mother wise. She knew that instinctively. I still have that letter, thirty-some years later, as a testament to my mother’s care and what I would take away with me as I moved on in life. Her written words are a treasure, and I wonder what will happen years from now when all of the current important messages and emotions have been relegated only to digital form, lost to the “cloud.”

So, to all of you parents facing this momentous moment: put pen to paper. Give your kids something they can hold on to, tangibly, and pull out when needed. It may sound old-fashioned, but maybe they will just tuck it away, under their pillow, among their treasures.
 
Treasure of Friendship

And another treasure for me? I have kept those friends, whom I met that very first week, dear to my heart for 34 years now, as my best friends – and one became my husband. We are all godparents to each others’ children, our kids think of each other as cousins, we vacation together. So, to all of you new students: keep your eyes open that first week, get involved, and open your heart to letting new people in. And open your heart too to what your parents will need to tell you.

What treasures do you still have from that first week away from home at university? What was your parting from your parents like? As a parent, did you find it helpful to write to your child when leaving them at school? Does it make a difference whether you get your message across in digital or material form?​

​"Click. Add note to replace text. Add text box with notation for typesetting. Strike through text. Insert correct source at cursor." I am working in Adobe Acrobat on page proofs, preparing them for publication with a university press. I have been invested in this project from:

• the original manuscript submitted by the author to the press
• copyediting the entire manuscript
• sending it back to the author for review
• cleaning up the reviewed manuscript by incorporating my many edits, suggestions, queries, and the author’s corrections
• connecting directly with the author on any queries or points for clarification
• preparing the manuscript for final submission to production
• to now proofhandling the proofread printed pages and copyediting the index keyed to those pages.

A Different Kind of Manuscript
 
Twenty years ago, however, you would have found me in the venerable Biblioteca Ambrosiana in Milan or Biblioteca Statale of Cremona in Italy, perusing a different kind of manuscript – ones written by hand on vellum or parchment paper in the late Middle Ages. I imagined a life of research, studying the written treasures hidden within the pages of such medieval manuscripts – accessible only to those trained to read the cryptic script and qualified to handle the fragile pages – and teaching Latin to university students. How did I end up working on modern books, on digital platforms, for other scholars?

Jumping through the Hoops of Academia
 
Real-life choices and tapping into my scholarly skill sets led me to this point. I submitted my doctoral dissertation – a critical edition and study of a medieval Latin grammatical text, previously existing only in manuscript form – two weeks before my first child was born. As a new mother, I held a sessional lecturer position, followed by a postdoctoral research fellowship, which allowed me to work on related manuscript research and get some publications under my belt – crucial for a promising academic career.

Working as an Author and Editor ... and with an Editor
 
Working with prestigious Brepols Publishers on seeing my own book through all of the stages of publication perhaps planted the first seeds in my mind of the possibility of a career in scholarly publishing. My editor Rita Beyers added so much value with her suggestions that improved the book, and I enjoyed the interchange with someone who had thought about the details of my work in such depth. During this time, I was also asked by some professors who recognized my penchant for detail to copyedit articles and book chapters in preparation for publication. I enjoyed the challenge.

Book and Baby!
 
As my own book came to light, I also gave birth to my second child. While I contemplated teaching positions alongside motherhood, I watched many of my colleagues in my field become itinerant instructors, moving to a different university every year for contract positions, picking up and moving every year for years before landing a tenure-track position. I did not see this as an option for me, since my husband had a secure job where we lived, which, as new parents, we did not want to jeopardize.

Jumping Off the Academic Carousel
 
So, I made the decision to jump off the academic carousel for a while and stay put to focus on raising my family. It was an important life decision, and I don’t regret it for a minute.

When my third child finally went to school full-time, however, it was time for me to think about my career again. Jumping back on the carousel, though, would prove difficult after so much time away without having jumped through the necessary academic hoops, so to speak, in the intervening years.

Along Came Erasmus

As chance would have it, I was hired as a freelance copyeditor for the Collected Works of Erasmus series, work that allowed me to use my Greek and Latin, familiarity with scholarly sources and apparatuses, and engage with scholars and publishers once again in a meaningful way. I loved it.

... and Real Life
 
While working on Erasmus, I was fortunate to land an adjunct instructor position for a year – but again, always limited contract. I kept my eye out for other contract teaching opportunities while continuing to edit, when my youngest child was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes. In a flash, I realized just how ideal life as a freelance editor was for me and my family, allowing me the flexibility needed in order to be able to run to school when necessary to help my daughter manage her diabetes.

Building My Freelance Editing Business

Since then, I have not looked back. I learned the intricacies of working as a professional editor on the job, thanks to a generous mentor and a patient managing editor. I discovered the Editors Association of Canada, enrolled in as many of their professional development seminars and workshops as I could, and realized that I could expand my client base and establish my own freelance editing business. I learned to create back-of-book indexes, since I love to gather and organize information. I studied the Chicago Manual of Style and Nancy Mulvany’s Indexing Books. Focusing specifically on academic and scholarly editing, I am able to provide a quality niche service to university presses and individual scholars, drawing on my own academic experience.

Editing Involves All of My Skills
 
They say that a good editor has a wide range of varied knowledge. Indeed, I have found that in editing other scholars’ work, I get to draw on everything kicking around in my head – my foreign languages, love for grammar, subject matter that has stuck with me over the years, practical life experience – and apply it in a meaningful combination. I am also constantly learning while I work, learning about new disciplines, such as sociology, political science, and business, gaining new software and small-business marketing skills, and adding all of this to my mental collection.
 
Although my career has followed a path different than what I had imagined when I originally set out as an academic, I am convinced that I am now where I need to be. While I began my career with medieval book production – the materials, the scripts, how they were made and for what purposes – I now play an integral role in modern book production, from author manuscript (nowadays in MS Word) to the final digital proof pages in Adobe. I use all of the skills in my arsenal to help authors get their – often years worth of – research out to the world in as clear, correct, concise, comprehensive, and consistent form possible – and that is rewarding.

​How did you get to where you are today? Did life decisions lead you down a different path professionally than you had originally expected? Have you packaged your skills for a new purpose with happy results?