Proofreader Blue

Proofreaders are a wonder of nature. The skill requires the ability to isolate individual words as well see them in relationship to all the other words. Their passion is accuracy in the application of grammar. I thought myself pretty adept as far as composition went. That’s before I received the proofread version of my first novel, every page of which my proofreader had flooded with blue symbols.

I knew nothing. I believed that’s what the blue pencil meant. As such, I accepted all the suggested corrections, and in that, I robbed my writing of much of my voice. I had mistaken the proofread as a grammar test that had come back with appalling results. Taking the proofreader as judge and jury is where writers’ pasts in writing for grades emerges with ferocity. Mine did, until I started to understand that the blue was not meant to signal failure, but as a conversation with someone who was asking if I knew why I’d chosen those words in that order. Could I defend my work?

Good proofreading isn’t a set of orders to change things. It’s a schematic in which the writer can see how their voice bends and shapes language. A sentence fragment may be a no-no in strict grammar, but should that fragment make the rhythm, meaning, and clarity of a paragraph sing, who cares? The important aspect is that the writer sees (probably already knows) they are breaking rules, and is able to say, I wrote it that way on purpose and this is why….

If the writer doesn’t care for nitpicking, the writer is probably in the wrong business. A good proofreading is as nitpicky as it gets.

In the best of worlds, writers should be able to give reasons for every word on their pages—even though it may be only “I liked the sound of that.” The waltz of moving the narrative forward while making each moment in the narrative so special the reader doesn’t want to see the story move on is a difficult dance step to learn. Practicing the ability to render each beat in writing with clarity and meaning is the work of it. Our arguments for our choices are as subjective as any other aspect of the arts. The only rationale that we cannot present: The reader will know what I mean. No, they won’t. The writer will not be there to explain their choices.

If the writer doesn’t care for nitpicking, the writer is probably in the wrong business. A good proofreading is as nitpicky as it gets. More challenging still is that the proofreader is never wrong. What they are trying to enforce is Emmerson’s adage that “Clarity is the only rule.” Clarity is what grammar provides. With every coded stroke of blue (or glitter pink or electric green), the proofreader asks only if the words are getting across what is meant with sparkling clarity. Those ask their questions with a coded vocabulary of marks specific to proofreading. (A search of the internet will turn up thousands of lists of what the proofreader’s marks signify. Here’s one such list.)

In traditional publishing, the identity of a writer’s proofreader remains anonymous. For new authors, that first proof can be traumatic. Is everything I wrote a mistake? For more experienced writers, the proof can be an insult. Both cases are overreactive, nothing is wrong if the writer meant to write it that way. A writer’s mode of countermanding the blue pencil is to write the simple letters STET under the mark. The acronym means “Let it stand.” That’s how we tell the publisher we don’t want to make a change.

The important thing to remember is that the proofreader is using their remarkable skills to make certain each book reads as its writer intended. They make the author look good. Their passion for perfection is our first chance to see what we wrote in a clinical fashion. The process can be a bit overwhelming at first. For me, the only marks that now sting are usually the ones of which I was already aware but thought would slip by unnoticed.

Thank you, blue-pencil professionals, for clarifying my intentions—if only in my mind—one true-blue symbol at a time.

Writing Exercise

Take out the earliest piece of your writing you can find. Using blue ink or blue pencil, mark it up using proofreaders’ marks (see link above). Your only aim here is clarifying your images and meaning for the reader through reworking sentences. You have grown since writing the piece and no doubt would change much about it. Bonus Points: Rewrite the piece using your own mark-ups. STET the things you want to keep. Why do you want to keep them? Defend your work.

Photo by Markus Spiske on Unsplash