Seeing Red
On Friday I copied out a page from a writer's magazine about picky editors and passed it around my department. I wanted them all to see that they should be thankful that it is only I who edit their work and not Mr. Whoever-it-was. I'm hoping this creates a change for the better. In other words, I am hoping it will make me feel less guilty about all of the red ink I spill sometimes.
My co-workers all claim that it is only because I am half their age that I can see so much that needs changing. They grumble about the times when I circle a period that is a bit too bold. But when all of the words are in normal font, yet the period at the end of the sentence is in bold, it really is worth marking.
See? Can't you tell?
I almost feel bad that they all now keep magnifying glasses on their desk. (I would feel bad except that now when I am feeling particularly sleuth-like in solving a mystery, I can borrow one to pose with.)
Red ink scrawling across staid Times New Roman disheartens. My co-workers bought me bright flower and heart sticky-notes to ease their pain. Maybe I should meet them half-way and use pink or green ink to correct with.
Or I guess I could visit a teacher supply store for stickers with apples and smiley faces.
And then maybe management would approve of nap time for our entire department.
Comments
The only problem is that those of us over fifty can't tell if the period is bold or not... we might not even be able to see it if it isn't bold.
(Nat told me how to use the HTML tags.)