I recently went up to Kansas City to see some friends, have some amazing food, catch a few comfy Z’s and see a football game. I did all that, but I also came home with a nice little surprise: a new topic for a Bloody Well Write entry.
First, a quick mention about the food. If you’re ever in Kansas City and are looking for a fantastic Italian meal in a quaint, romantic little ristorante, look no further than Carmen’s in Brookside. Ask to sit downstairs — I prefer the intimate atmosphere — and request some Italian Butter to start; it’s their version of olive oil and herbs, but I tell you that it is absolutely like none you have ever had.
I order off the menu, à la “When Harry Met Sally,” combining the cheese ravioli from one dish with the vodka tomato cream sauce from another, with a little fra diavolo thrown in to spice things up a bit. And ba-da-BING! It’s the tastiest, smoothest Italian around. No lie.
OK, so back to the grammar bit of this entry. So I’m in the hotel room — the one with the lush, fresh-white bedding and soaps the shape of leaves, with the cool city view — and I am piddling around, waiting until it’s time to go meet our friends. And I pick up this water bottle hang tag, with one word on it, for emphasis: revitalize.
That’s pretty cool. Decent marketing, colors fading from blue to snow white (very spalike), with some smallish print across the bottom: Westin® Hotels and Resorts. Nice little water logo. Then more words:
Nestle Pure Life Eco Shaped Bottles
Less Plastic. Better Enviornment.
So — reread that. See how many mistakes you can find in those two little lines.
By my count, I’d say that there are, at the minimum, five mistakes. There are more if you want to keep the lowercase consistency set by the headline (revitalize). And the periods? Don’t get me started. (OK, get me started. the headline doesn’t use a period, and neither does the first line, but the second line has two. Go figure.)
So what are the five mistakes?
There is no ® after Nestle.
There is no hyphen between Eco and Shaped.
The S in Shaped, since it should follow a hyphen, should be lowercase.
If there are two periods in the second line, there is no excuse why there shouldn’t be one at the end of the first line. (None of those groups of words are complete sentences.)
Enviornment. Seriously? This is for a national chain, for Pete’s sake. I know that it’s a four-syllable word, but my silly spell-checker caught it, so come ON.
I just checked out Nestle’s site to make sure that it uses a registered trademark (®) and, unbelievably, the site does not have one on the main page, even though products (such as Nestle® Cheerios®) have one next to the name. That sort of thing happens all the time. It blows my mind, especially on these enormous accounts.
I’ll end this little study in proofreading by saying that, despite this crazy hang tag, I had a really, really good time in Kansas City. And I’d even recommend the Westin Crown Center hotel to any friend or acquaintance. Just don’t plan on any solid ultra-light reading in the room.
So I’m a word gal; this much is true. I find it quite difficult to read books (adult books, anyway) for relaxation or enjoyment because the majority of my day is spent either writing my own words or editing someone else’s words, so I don’t think reading a few chapters at night sound like a whole lot of fun. I guess I’m not the typical word hound, then, since most do tend to like, um, books and, er, reading.
Fine. I’m OK with that.
I do, however, enjoy reading to my two kids at night. Their books are fun, rhyming, colorful short (short!) stories with cool illustrations. And since it’s the holidays, we’re reading a few books that I grew up with — “Rudolph, the Red-nosed Reindeer” and Christmas in Many Lands” — as well as a few new ones, such as “Elf on the Shelf” (we named ours Leo and today he’s perched on top of our refrigerator) and “Olive, the Other Reindeer.”
Ah, Olive. If only your creators knew the difference between every day and everyday, reading would be ever-so-slightly more enjoyable for me, the word dork.
You see, “Olive, the Other Reindeer” starts out by botching the very first word, which means that I have to put on my tattered editor hat throughout the rest of the reading. It’s just innate for me. I can’t get through the book now without cringing on the very first page.
(Technically, it starts off even earlier than the first page: The title has punctuation in it. Ugh. A period is tacked on. Not sure why, it just is. Weird.)
Anyway, the story begins, “Everyday, Olive took her daily dog walk ….” In this instance, everyday should take the adverb form (two words) because it is expressing a manner of time. Were it meant to be an adjective, it would be modifying a noun of some sort. Alas, that is not the case at the beginning of this story.
To keep the adverb-adjective relationship straight, I like to (still) think of the Schoolhouse Rock snippets:
• Adverb — “Lolly, Lolly, Lolly, get your adverbs here. … How, where or when, condition or reason — these questions are answered when you use an adverb.” If it ends in ly and the ly isn’t a regular part of the word (as in family), then it’s probably an adverb. The phrase every day answers the question of when, so it’s an adverb.
• Adjective — These handy, little words “describe the people, places and every last thing” and “are often used to help us compare things. … We hiked along without care. Then we ran into a bear. He was a hairy bear. He was a scary bear. We beat a hasty retreat from his lair.”
Cool, huh?
Back to “Olive, the Other Reindeer” for just a second. The book, written by Vivian Walsh and J. Otto Seibold, is a fun children’s book. The story is cute; it’s about an industrious little dog who thinks that she’s a reindeer, so she goes to the North Pole to help Santa out. The pages are filled with quirky, fun illustrations by Seibold; I especially love the two pages that show the reindeer navigating around the Eiffel Tower. Despite the everyday blunder, this book’s worth the read.
Here’s how the AP Stylebook folks would like to see telephone numbers in print: 123-456-7890.
Ah, hyphens. Hey — at least they dropped the parentheses around the area code. Be happy.
Now, I know this doesn’t jibe with all the designers out there. And you know what? It doesn’t necessarily jibe with me, either. I’m a fan of dots (er, periods). I would rather see this: 123.456.7890.
So I guess what I’m promoting is this:
• If you or your company says that AP rules the proverbial roost and there should be absolutely no deviation, use the hyphens in your phone numbers. (And I’m so completely OK with that, as I do believe that AP has your back nearly every time, grammatically speaking.)
• If, on the other hand, you have a designer itching at the keypad to produce funky (or just non-hyphenated) art with numbers, use periods, stars, squares or whatever else floats that designer’s boat.
Just make it readable. After all, if you’re putting a phone number in print, you probably want people to be able to decipher that number and then call it, correct? Correct.
Today is Thursday, September 24, 2009 — the sixth annual celebration of National Punctuation Day (NPD). Punctuation ensures that groups of words make more sense and take on more meaning than you can shake a stick at.
Hooray for punctuation!
In 2004, NPD was founded by Jeff Rubin, a former newspaper guy. In 1981, Rubin started The Newsletter Guy, a newsletter publishing firm. Rubin is also a public speaker, addressing effective writing and marketing techniques. I bet that he also addresses the importance of proper punctuation — but that’s just a guess.
Check out the official Web site. It offers some of the standard stuff (e.g., definitions of each punctuation mark, examples of punctuation gone awry, a resources section); most notable, perhaps, is the information concerning the baking contest. Send in two photos of your masterpiece — one of it going into the oven raw and one of it coming out, all warm and yummy — and you may win a bunch of non-edible NPD stuff. How cool is that?! Very, I say.
Doesn't a bake-off seem like a better idea?! (photo: http://www.flickr.com/photos/adactio/3367193003)
OK, stop messing around here and go bake something with meaning, such as a semicolon or em dash. You know you want to.
The first one stems from how I came to decide what to write about today. I was standing in the shower thinking, and I had all these great phrases and sentences and points running through my head. But I was standing in the shower, hair full of shampoo and soapy puff in hand, and there was no way I could easily record these fantastic ideas.
Try to remember them? Oh, sure — easy for you to say, sitting there all dry and all. You know how it goes: Great idea pops into your head, it’s completely developed and ready for a patent, but by the time you’re towel-dried and undies on, your mind is blank. You don’t have a recorder handy in the bathroom, and pen to paper completely is out of the question.
So that’s my pet peeve No. 38: How in tarnation do people expect to get great ideas and keep those great ideas intact until they’re out of the shower? Umph.
Now on to pet peeve No. 39, the point of this entry: quality.
What does that mean? I see it all the time: This is a quality product. That is quality-made. The other is a quality idea.
What kind of quality, pretty please? High quality? Low quality? Supreme quality? So-so quality?
There are those who would argue that I am being too picky and not letting myself read into it what is meant to be read into it. I argue back: I am a writer. And an editor. And a proofreader. My job is to be picky with the language, to make entirely sure that the point is clear (and concise, yes, but clarity rules the writer’s roost).
If the wording isn’t absolutely clear to me, I can guarantee you that there are others out there who would also find it confusing as is. And if I don’t question language that is not quite clear (especially as an editor and proofreader), then who will? The readers, that’s who. And if the readers are questioning the wording, then it’s a little too late for the writer to clarify.
The readers have power — political power, emotional power, purchasing power.
Even if the readers “get” your meaning, there are some who will relate the slightly sloppy writing with the product. Do you really want even a few of your readers to mock your writing (and thus your product, if you are selling something) by thinking, “Hmm. I wonder if the bozo who wrote this copy (snicker) meant “crappy quality” or (tee hee) “subpar quality” (har dee har)”? No. Of course you don’t. So be clear when you’re writing about the quality of something.