That bug's/bugs'/bugs me!

While there are many other kinds of errors to be found during editing, one that can be particularly hard to find is the errant apostrophe.  It's so easy to skim right over its misuse.

And it's so easy to not realize that its (oops -- it's) missing:

* diggin in the dirt --> diggin'

* mendin the fence --> mendin'

* wishin' this punctuation lesson would end.

But there are other occasions where this popular punctuation mark gets abused.  For example, until is often shortened.  It appears that the alternative till is correct -- it is a version of the word until, though I always think of till as "plow the soil."

Then there is 'til, the abbreviated version of until.

But I've seen other variations that really bug me:

• til (no apostrophe in front -- punctuation police please take notice)

• 'till (mmm....curious)

•  and til' (someone knew it needed an apostrophe -- just didn't know where to put it).

Well, back to my editing, looking for those errant apostrophes.

Don

Trilobite fossil (2.5-inch Flexicalymene meeki) from Kentucky: a big "bug"

Who Wrote That?

Sedona, AZ

I'm busily editing and revising the draft of book #7 in the Nathan Hale Parker series.  In the process, I often find sentences that raise the question, "Who wrote THAT?!!"

The sentences are grammatically correct, every word is spelled correctly, and they fit with the story line.  But I couldn't possibly have written THAT!  And certainly not THAT way!

Did autocorrect do it?  Or some virus?  Probably.  I'm sure that as soon as I close the document for the day, something invades my manuscript, randomly rewriting entire sections.

Well......perhaps not.  Perhaps I am actually guilty of creating that awkward phrase, or choosing that questionable wording.  So, I dutifully re-write the phrase, the sentence, the paragraph, the page, or maybe even the entire chapter.  When that still doesn't feel right, start over.

For me, this is the YUCKY part of writing.

But eventually, it begins to feel better.  Yet I know that once this "heavy" editing phase is done, there's still another round (and another, and....).  When it's over, hopefully, all of the THATs infesting the flow of the story will be gone.  I can dream, can't I?

It would certainly help if there were radar or sonar or "wordar" that went BZZZZZT! and boldly pointed to each and every one of the THATs.  And let's add yellow highlights with bold pop-up windows that scream FIX THAT!!!!

But, nope.

To the best of my knowledge, the current state of the art in computer word-processing technology does not encompass an application that can automatically discover, or recommend corrections to, the phrases, sentences, paragraphs, and chapters of a manuscript that might, in the opinion of the reader of the manuscript, be considered inappropriate, politically incorrect, awkward, or similarly deficient in quality.

Wait a minute!!  Who wrote THAT?!!

Don 

Fortunate autocorrects?

While the autocorrect electronic tool has likely saved me from many typos in my writing, it is equally responsible for introducing random new ones.

Take for example a recent email update that I send out to the clan.  I intended to use the term cul-de-sac.  That phrase mysteriously autocorrected to cup-de-sac.  Not a big deal, especially since it spawned a series of humorous responses.  Cup-de-sac: now there's something that can hold water.  And Well, that's really not my cup of tea.  And For lunch, can I please have the half sandwich and cup-de-sac?

But some autocorrects can be more "flagrant".  When my wife was traveling on I-75, she sent a text message on her progress when she stopped for lunch.  It consisted of a single word: bludgeon.  What?!

Almost immediately, another message appeared with the word buffoon.  I respectfully submit that I am not one of those!

The final text read Bluffton.  Now that made sense.  Bluffton is a town on I-75, about 140 miles north of Cincinnati.

Yet even this flagrant example of autocorrect had value.  In addition to the enjoyment of re-telling the story, I used it in one of my novels: Running to Cover.  One of the cities in the book actually has a neighborhood called Bluffton, so "bludgeon a buffoon in Bluffton" became a line in the story.  So that was a fortunate autocorrect -- that double fortune cookie received at a Chinese restaurant probably helped.

Anyway, beware of those unexpected autocorrect topographical....topical geographical....typographical errors.

Don

How Much Would/Wood....

A lot of wood is being chucked in Ohio and surrounding states.  Because the emerald ash borer is wiping out huge stands of native ash trees. 

Gazing at a forest, I find it easy to pick out the dead ash: their leaf-less skeleton limbs dot the horizon.  If only typos in a manuscript were as easy to spot as those ash borer victims poking up through the forest canopy.

But, alas, typos tend to be more elusive: that stray comma, the missing quotation mark, an extra space between words, or the wrong there/their/they're. Ware/wear/where are they hiding?  Finding all of them is sometimes just to/two/too much to bare/bear. 

Digressing a bit, let's look on the positive side of disappearing ash trees.  We did see more woodpeckers in the yard: they apparently developed an appetite for ash borers, though perhaps too late to save the species.  There are fewer leaves to rake in the fall.  And all the dead trees have been a boon to the tree-trimming and firewood industries.  Mounds of wood are being chucked and stacked for winter heating, such as the huge piles created from the 23 trees that were cut out of the neighbor's yard.

So, before the winter would/wood-burning frenzy begins, whose/who's going to clean out the fireplace flew/flu/flue?

Don

Black Walnuts and Writing -- Again?

Yes, there is more to say -- and part of it does apply to Nathan Hale Parker, the main character in my crime novels.  That connection is described below.

In the previous post, I discussed the 12 wheelbarrow loads of black walnuts and osage oranges that were hauled and returned to nature elsewhere.  Since then, an equal number of loads have been wheeled away.  We had frost here, and that really accelerates the pace of falling fruits.  There have been more freezes -- I wonder how many fell?  A surprise waiting for me in the yard.

I also mentioned that black walnuts are unpalatable.  The whole truth is that some people do eat them.  But it ain't easy.  The nut itself is surrounded by a thick husk.  Peeling that away reveals the brown-black sticky inner surface -- that will stain your fingers like henna dye.  So wearing gloves is advised.  Then there is the shell of the nut, which is extremely hard.  Squirrels gnaw through it pretty easily.  I prefer to use a hammer.

That lengthy process finally reveals the tiny meat of the nut, which is loaded with good nutrients.  But it has a bitter taste.  Yet when used in cooking, it does add a distinctive natural flavor.

How does this relate to Nathan Hale Parker?  Except for a brief period in his stories, Nathan doesn't own a house.  So he's never had to pick up black walnuts from the yard.  Lucky guy.

As for osage oranges, I've never tasted one of those.  And don't plan to.  Even squirrels won't stoop that low.

Don

Black Walnuts and Book Editing

These two topics are connected -- really.  Please read onward.

My front yard has several tall native trees (black walnuts and osage oranges) that produce bumper crops of unpalatable fruit.  So in the fall, I spend many many hours picking up these botanical rejects from the lawn.  Billions of black walnuts (golf ball to baseball-sized green orbs) and a few lumpy brain-like green osage oranges (softball-sized spheres).  Yesterday morning, I took twelve wheelbarrow loads of walnuts to the woods behind the house -- picnic time for the squirrels.

While doing this mindless task, my brain can focus on earth-shaking topics, such as, "What was the name of that movie I watched last night?"  Or, "Did I put the milk back in the refrigerator?"  Or, "Why don't my socks match this morning?"

I also think a lot about book editing.  Some edit ideas pop into my head.  So I dig a small spiral notebook and pen out of my pocket to jot them down, and remind myself that I really need to do more and more and more editing, to make my novels more irresistible.  I'm relatively new at creative-writing -- I'm learning.

But I digress from the important topic: black walnuts.

When I finally finish picking them all up and dumping them out of sight, I get the reward:  the sight of a clean yard.  Yay!!

Thump!

Dang, another walnut just fell.  OK, I'll pick it up.

Thump!  Thump!

Only two more.  No big deal.

Thump!Thump!Thump!Thump!Thump!

They're everywhere again.  Well, at least I've never been hit by a falling black walnut.  I bet those suckers would hurt.

Ouch!

That one just hit me!  On the head!  I'm gonna sue!

Well, at least I've only been hit once by a falling osage orange.  That really hurt.

OUCH!!  

That's it.  I'm getting a hard hat and a suit of armor.

Thump!

As if the trees really care.

And the point is....?  Collecting black walnuts and book editing are never quite done.  For the latter, I hope that with enough experience, I"ll got this erditing thang write,

Don