A book had been lurking on my schedule for months. Author
told me about it last fall and sent me a draft in November to begin working on it. A few weeks
later came a replacement chapter, then another. Thankfully I hadn’t begun working
on the original yet, but I requested that when the entire manuscript was
set, that’s when I should receive a complete new version. Author agreed.
Then the author said, I believe, one of the other chapters
was undergoing heavy revision, or there was a new chapter or something, so
everything’s on hold. OK.
Revised manuscript comes in February, followed by an email
that some of the documentation needs to be reworked, and here’s what needs to
be done. I wrote back and said, again, when you have a complete, finished
manuscript, please send it to me. My point was not to be a jerk, and I
explained that to the author. I’m not the one closest to the material. I’m not
the subject expert. It’s not up to me to make substantive decisions about
what’s in or not in the books.
About five hours later, the author sends me the completed
manuscript, which I’ve now returned to the author, edited and tidied up. Great
book, author is very pleasant. All’s good, although I do have one concern.
Author said that the publisher’s deadline for the manuscript is August. I have
a feeling the copyedited manuscript will not reside unmolested until then;
rather, I fear that the author is going, by way of fact checking, to show this
manuscript to a bunch of potential buyers of the book and tweak it for the next
five months.
So, of course, down the line, some poor sap of a proofreader
might be seeing When Versions Collide.
Oh. That would be me. Happy days.
The author is publishing the book with a UK press, so when
the original manuscript came in last November, I had Colleen (dba interngirl) go
through their 20-page style sheet and try to highlight all the differences from
Chicago and any weirdness that didn’t
look Amerkun. She marked plenty.
All her work was mostly for naught as I needed to refresh
myself on all of it five months later anyway (formatting, a lot of things), but
the press’s style sheet did spell out for me some things about British English
that had baffled me. I’m not sure it does any less now.
Full
point after abbreviation only where last letter of word omitted: Dr, Mr but
etc., Prof., but not after contractions or in acronyms: Dr, St, Mr, BBC,
UNESCO, USA. Note especially: ed. / eds, vol. / vols, Ch. / Chs, but the
exception: no. nos.
Let that roll around in your head for a minute.
I’d always wondered why I would see “ed.” but “eds” in
bibliographies when dealing with British works. Now I know. I probably
miscorrected it in some volumes years ago. Live and learn. But to me, that’s
too much to think about. Just put a damn full stop at the end of the
abbreviation.
Include
‘e’ in forms such as: ageing, judgement, likeable.
>
Use –ize and –ization; recognize, criticize; but use analyse, paralyse,
electrolyse. Note that a number of verbs have no alternative to the ‘ise’
spelling, including: advertise, advise, circumcise, compromise, despise,
devise, enterprise, exercise, franchise, improvise, revise, surmise, supervise,
televise.
What the British taketh away in punctuation, they add back
in unnecessary letters. I’ve never liked “judgement,” and of course.
“acknowledgements” is the bane of editors and proofreaders everywhere in the
United States. I don’t know what’s up with Use –ize and –ization. Nor do I understand
the -lyse exception, which they don’t identify as such. In the book, I ran across other -lyse words. Do they fall under this rule? Could be argued either
way.
Ellipses:
… No space between points; space after only if leading to new sentence, no
extra point if at end of sentence.
OK, class. Think about this one. Not only are the butt-ugly
“points” (wait, here they’re not full points?) set tight, but no space around
them, unless the following bit of copy is a sentence. Let me demonstrate:
The umpire was
hot...and tired.
The umpire was hot,
tired... He threw the manager out of the game for dropping the M-bomb.
I actually grew to like this style in the course of
copyediting the book. Not saying I’d want to change to it, but it is efficient.
The ellipses, that is. Not the umpiring.
Round
brackets should be used within round brackets where necessary. Square brackets
should normally be confined to editorial comment.
By this point, I’m enraged. It’s like, “What the hell have
you people done to our language?” I want to go into a Sam Kinison rant, “Have
you ever heard the word ‘parentheses,’ people? What the hell is a ‘round
bracket’?” So, in this book we have some parenthetical — I guess that would be
round-bracketal — in-text citations that read “(blah blah blah (Smith and Jones
2000)).” Joyous.
Use
minimum numbers for number spans except in ‘teens’, e.g. 25–8, 136–42, 150–1,
but 12–16.
Whatever.
Formatting:
En
Rules (and Em Rules)
> An en rule is longer than a
hyphen and is used to replace ‘to’ in number spans, e.g. ‘24–8’. As there is no
en rule key on the standard keyboard you should indicate en rules between
numbers using the normal short hyphen.
> The en rule is also used to
link two items of equal weight, e.g. ‘Nazi–Soviet pact’. To indicate words
which should be linked with en rules (rather than normal hyphens) type a double
hyphen, e.g. Nazi--Soviet pact.
> Spaced en rules are used as
parenthetical dashes or pauses. Type a single hyphen with a space before and
after to indicate a dash.
> Only use em (—) rules to
indicate a deliberately obscured word.
So, em dashes don’t appear. An em dash is for their purposes
an en dash with spaces around it. In the bibliography, instead of the 3-em dash
for a repeated author, they use an en dash.
And what everyone wants to know:
>
If following UK style, always use single quotation marks for dialogue and
quoted material in the text. Reserve the use of double quotation marks for
quotes within quotes, e.g. ‘Edward found the trappings of “royalty” hung
heavily.’
> In UK style the full stop
only falls inside the quotation mark if the material quoted is a complete
sentence, e.g. He called it “my house”, even though it belonged to Clara.
Now, I think I get it. But
why oh why did they use double quotes in the last example, and why did they
refer to a “full stop” when a comma appears? Is a comma also a “full stop”?
I’m going to have to relearn
all this stuff again at some point. I think I’ll see this book again even before it
goes to the publisher. Just a guess.