Why Spell-Check Should Not be Your Only Editor

Thank God for spell-check, right? Without it, even the best writers would be spending more time with their dictionaries than actually writing. Or everything that’s published would be so riddled with mistakes that no one could read it. But spell-check isn’t everything.

Spell-check will alert us to simple typos and transposed letters (am I the only one who often types “hte” instead of “the” when I’m in a hurry?) Even the grammar-check that’s part of most word-processing programs is far from infallible. Here are some examples of mistakes that even the best spell-check software won’t catch, and why it never hurts to have another pair of human eyes to look over your work.

Homophone mix-ups

Homophones are words that sound the same but are spelled differently and have different meanings.

Example: My car is parked over their.

It should read: My car is parked over there. (There is a place, their refers to something that belongs to them). In this sentence, “their” is spelled correctly, it’s just the wrong word for this sentence.

Easily Confused Words

These can be homophones, or words that sound sort of similar, or simply a word that the writer isn’t familiar with so he gambles on something he thinks is right.

Example: Please except my apology.

It should read: Please accept my apology.

Except means “excluding,” or sometimes replaces the word “but” in a sentence. Accept means to receive or agree to. Since these words are almost-homophones, they’re often confused. Very different meanings, though – but something that spell-check won’t catch.

Easily mis-typed words

These are words that are spelled correctly, but are simply the wrong word for the sentence.

Example: I’ve loved dogs every since I can remember.

Every is a fine word – but in this case, the word should be ever.

Other correctly-spelled words that can often be mistyped: any instead of andthen instead of than or the other way around, food instead of good. I could go on, but these are some that I’ve mistyped on more than one occasion.

British versus American spellings

This one isn’t so much about typos as it is about consistency. “Colour” and “color” are both correct spellings – you just need to know which one is appropriate to use. My American word processing program puts the red “misspelled word” line under “colour” because that’s not the correct spelling for American English. So if you’re a Canadian writing for an American publication, or an American writing for a European publication, just remember which is the correct spelling for your market, and be consistent.

Example: I love the colour pink, and my favorite ice-cream flavor is strawberry.

As I said, either spelling is correct, but consistency is what is needed. Either have “favourite” and “flavour” match your spelling of “colour,” or change them all to the American standards.

Run-on Sentences

Example: We went shopping, then had lunch and later had ice cream – chocolate, of course – and my sister said that we should get together every weekend and do this and I agreed.

There’s technically nothing ungrammatical here, nor any misspellings. It’s just a simple run-on sentence. It would be easier to read as two sentences. If you’re done with the developmental edits of your work and just need that final polish of copy editing or proofreading, this is the sort of thing that a good editor will catch. Spell-check won’t.

Spelling inconsistencies

This one is sort of like the European vs. American spellings, as in there is no right or wrong. Consistency is what counts here.

Example: Sara vs. Sarah.

If you have a character named Sara, make sure that her name is Sara the entire way through the story. Readers might get confused if her name suddenly changes to Sarah in chapter seven. Again, spell-check and even a high-tech grammar-check won’t catch this.

I’m sure there are plenty of other examples to point out why everyone needs an editor or at least a few sharp-eyed critique partners. And I’m sure that I have provided such examples in many of my blog posts! I’m also not trying to bash spell-check or other automatic editing programs. Let’s just not forget the human element. A trained editor’s eyes and brain will still trump a computer program and help you to put your best writing forward.

Orchestra Seats

Last week my mom and I went to the ballet. I realized with some embarrassment that it’s been more than a few years since I’ve been to a ballet. I came away feeling very cultured and refined, with some unique and unexpected impressions from this night of music and art.

We had first row orchestra seats, front and center right up at the orchestra pit. Since I enjoy watching musicians playing as much as I enjoy watching dancers and other performers, I was thrilled with these seats.

When you sit that close to the front, in an opulent but small 1920s-era theater, it means that you’re really close to the stage. If I’d stretched, I could have almost touched the orchestra conductor. This put me in a rare position to hear nuances of the music that those farther back in the theater wouldn’t have heard.

I heard the conductor breathing. He began each musical phrase on an inhale or exhale. Since the conductor sets the tone for the entire orchestra, this seemed appropriate for him to be breathing the music, living the music.

Musical instruments sometimes make sounds besides just the music they were designed for. Fingers sliding on the strings of the cello or the bass. The click of the keys on the bassoon and the clarinet. To me, these mechanical sounds are part of the music, and something that can be lost listening to a recording or to electronically-produced music.

Tchaikovsky’s Serenade, the ethereal string composition that began the evening, featured female dancers in white airy garments. But from my seat, I could tell that even though these dancers floated like fairies, they were still just human like me. Skirts swished, toe shoes thumped with soft little hollow sounds as they twirled. Hearing these sounds made the experience no less magical for me.

The same was for the following two numbers – Bernstein’s Fancy Free, and Stravinsky’s The Rite of Spring. The movement, the music, the athleticism of the dancers – all of that goes into making a memorable ballet. But so does the clicking of the beads on the girl’s skirt in Fancy Free, and the thumping of feet as the male leads each performed their solo numbers.

Or the pounding of hands and feet beating the stage in The Rite of Spring, or the heavy breath of the lead dancers after their grueling solo of acrobatics. These sounds are invisible to those sitting in the mezzanine seats, with their grand overhead view of the entire stage.

My view was limited to the musicians right below me, and the dancers right above me. And I could hear everything. The next time I go to the ballet, I will do whatever I can to get those orchestra seats.

How I met Batman

I first started going to the comic store regularly back in high school. It was on the way home, right where I got off the bus, and my friend and I would stop in after school at least once a week. I was an insufferable Trekker at the time (we both were), and Barry’s comic book shop always had boxes of individual trading cards from every series under the sun. A card collector’s dream, since those packs never had that one last special card you needed.

Barry was always ready with a smile and a friendly comment, whether my purchases were Star Trek cards or X-Men comics. Even twenty years ago, collecting every X-Men comic in existence was no easy feat – but Stories Comics and Barry behind the counter could help me make it happen.

The store was like a low-tech Bat-cave – a tiny hidden gem of a shop, with secret treasures stuffed in every nook and cranny. And I emphasize low-tech – those old manual knuckle-buster contraptions for running credit cards on carbon paper, index cards for tracking customers’ trade-in credits. There was no computerized inventory. It was all in Barry’s head – every comic, old and new; every action figure, t-shirt, video tape, collectible lunch box.

I needed a part-time job during my summers and holidays while in college. And since I didn’t want to flip burgers and I was tired of babysitting, I was elated to get a job at this low-tech Bat-cave. And so thus began my journey, like a young Robin under the tutelage of Batman. Barry the comic master taught me:

  • Everybody should have a nickname or a super-hero name.
  • Never buy a new comic from the top or the bottom of the stack; those are the ones that get the most abuse during shipping. Buy a comic from the middle of the stack.
  • Classic monster movie memorabilia is always popular, not just at Halloween.
  • If the toy companies don’t make action figures of your favorite characters, then cannibalize cheap or broken figures and build and paint your own.
  • Eat all your meals off of Justice League dishes. If those aren’t available, Looney Tunes dishes will do in a pinch.
  • If someone is scared of bugs, make sure you keep plenty of plastic cockroaches on hand to terrify them.
  • A rubber snake on the t-shirt rack will also freak some people out. Both are equally hilarious.
  • Don’t waste valuable storage or display space. Everyone has room for a giant inflatable starship Enterprise the size of a bus – that’s what the ceiling is for.
  • You can never have too many comic books.
  • Or toys. Or videos/DVDs. Or unique/one-of-a-kind/weird collectible items.
  • Batman is the greatest super-hero ever.

I worked harder at Stories than I have at most any other job. Comic boxes are heavy. Customers aren’t always happy. Returning damaged merchandise to the distributors is a hassle. Employees don’t always get along.

Barry knew how to work hard and how to run a business, and kept us working hard. When I was just a customer, shopping for my Spock and Picard and Data cards, Stories was just one tiny store in a center of a strip mall. But it wasn’t long before it took over half of the strip mall; plus two other stores opened across town, and the online sales continued to grow.

But what really made the business work was that Barry knew how to play hard and laugh hard. My boss was really just a big kid who never grew up. At an age when most adults were settling down to the drudgery that the world teaches is “real life,” Barry still believed in super-heroes.

He believed there was still some fun to be had in life, some joy to be found, some good worth fighting for. Kindness mattered, smiles could really help people. That’s what the toys and the comic books taught him, and he lived it every day.

Thank you, Barry, for rescuing a lost nerdy college girl and giving her smiles and giving her friends. You were just a regular guy, a Bruce Wayne everyman, sitting behind a cash register or posting cartoons on Facebook. But really, you were Batman. Thank you for proving there are still super-heroes.

In memory of Barry Pryor, founder of Stories Comics.

Creating Fantasy Creatures and Alien Species

I read a great blog some time ago (here and here) about the use of non-human characters in fantasy and science-fiction. It’s true that non-human creatures are a staple of these genres; and for those of us who write sci-fi and fantasy, creating new creatures is part of the fun of world-building.

I’m not going to lay out rules for creating magical creatures or alien life-forms. However, similar to other forms of world-building, I believe there are some factors that should be considered when creating non-human people.

Note: these guidelines/suggestions apply primarily to sentient creatures rather than regular animals, as I’m discussing the roles that individuals of these species may play as major or supporting characters. Think Wookies rather than taun-tauns.

If you’re inventing a fairy kingdom or an alien race to be major players in your story, then you want them to well-rounded and have all the nuances and details of any real culture. (This is not to say that every writer must aspire to have Tolkien-esque creations, complete with their own language, mythology, and land of after-life). But if you want your creatures to be appealing to the reader, they should be more than one-dimensional over-generalizations.

What are the qualities that make them non-human?

There’s nothing wrong with simply sticking pointed ears on a human and calling it an elf or a Vulcan, but if you’re going to all the work of creating a non-human race, then why is it important that these people be non-human? This could be for any number of reasons (magical realm, alien planet, plot about human versus non-human war, etc). But my point here is that there need to be some noticeable, and story-specific, reasons that these characters are not mere humans from the neighboring land.

Physiology: Wings, prehensile tails, fur, gills. Creatures that eat rocks, breathe methane, live in the ice, live in the sun. The plot of your story may dictate certain physical attributes that your creatures have. Again, there’s nothing wrong with a humanoid with pointed ears, but consider other aspects of the physiology as it relates to the plot and other needs of your story.

Emotions/Mindset: How do these people (as a race in general, or specific characters) think and feel that makes them different from the human characters? Do they consider anger to be a sign of strength and prestige? Do they have no concept of betrayal, and so your character experiences completely new emotions when betrayed by a human character? Since I’ve been talking about pointy-eared folks, consider the Vulcans and their mindset of placing reason above emotions.

Culture: This one sort of goes along with the previous entry of emotions and racial thought-process, but it’s a bit broader. What about the culture makes it so radically different from any human society? If your pointy-eared elves look, think, feel, dress, eat, talk, work, and play exactly the same way that most any human society would, then why bother making them non-human? How does their clothing indicate each individual’s role in the family structure? What is unique about their art or their music? What do they eat during special ceremonies? Not every detail of a culture has to be established (and if you’re writing a long epic or a series, many of these details can be revealed over the long haul). But again, try to make your people unique as a race in more ways than just pointy-eared humans who all wear purple sashes on Fridays.

Example: Hobbits. Yep, they’re pretty humanoid (and have pointed ears!) They even have a lot of human cultural traits like fancy silverware and books on the bookshelves, ale-drinking at pubs, fireworks at parties. But what are some things that make then distinctly non-human?

Hobbits have giant, furry feet that are sturdier than the best shoes. Frodo and Sam hiked all the way to Mordor barefoot, and sore feet was one thing that never bothered them. Hobbits frown upon adventures and doing anything wild and crazy and new. The very human-like craving to explore and do something new made both Bilbo and Frodo outcasts of a sort. In broader cultural terms, hobbits shun boats and water, despite the prevalence of rivers in their land. And they avoid outsiders, not so much out of fear, but rather out of a cultural mindset of believing that their land is immune to the problems that plague the rest of the world.

What are the qualities that make them human?

Now we come to the flip side of creating imaginary creatures and alien races. Unless you’re writing a humans-versus-creatures-who-have-no-redeeming-qualities story (like, say, in the movie Independence Day), then you want your people to have some human qualities to make them relatable. Chances are your human characters will be interacting with the non-humans in many different ways, and having some point of familiarity can smooth rough patches or add to the tension, depending on your plot and how you use it.

Also, some human qualities will make these made-up creatures more likeable by your readers. Again, unless you’re doing an Independence Day-type story, you want your readers to enjoy reading about the creatures you’ve created.

Physiology: Physical features are perhaps the least important (at least, in my opinion) for the human-relatability factor. But if the needs of your story demand the humans and the non-humans to interact in any way beside total war and annihilation, then having some common ground to work from could be good. In the classic Star Trek episode “The Devil in the Dark,” the non-human character was a living rock. But even then, the Enterprise crew and the alien found a common ground when the humans figured out that the rock was a female protecting her eggs. Not that humans lay eggs, but the mother-protecting-her-young thing was enough to launch an understanding.

Emotions/Mindset: This category, and the next one of culture, are where you can build the strongest human-like elements in your magical or alien race. It doesn’t have to be big or obvious. But if your fairies have a sense of humor and laugh at jokes – even if those jokes make no sense to the humans – that is your common ground. The fairies have a sense of humor, just like humans – even if each race has to struggle to understand each other’s humor.

Culture: Again, you don’t have to go overboard with similarities to human culture (refer back to the pointy-eared just-like-humans-in-almost-every-way example I used earlier). Unless, of course, loads of similarities is part of the plot or theme of your book. But in general, just a few commonalities is enough to make your fantasy creatures believable and understood by your readers. Maybe your elves put the same emphasis on fashion that most human cultures past and present have? Maybe your aliens are radically alien in every way, but even they bond and find community while eating together? Make it as big or little, emphatic or unimportant as you want, but some little human element can help hook and ground your human readers.

Example: The dragons from Jeff Smith’s epic fantasy comic Bone. Physiology is where they are the least human – they’re dragons, after all. But even the main dragon character The Great Red Dragon has distinctly human-like hands, complete with smooth flexible fingers and opposable thumbs. The dragon racial mindset and culture is one rooted in fear, despite their great wisdom and power. Fear does strange things to people and makes them do things they might not normally do if they were thinking clearly – and this is what has happened to the dragons as a people as the story begins. The Great Red Dragon finds himself trying to be the lone voice of reason to both his own kind and the humans – a position that most people could understand, if not identify with.

So there’s my take on the populating of fantasy worlds. These are far from being rules, for sure, but are just common elements that I’ve noticed from some of the best sci-fi and fantasy stories. Now go grab some humans, some pointed ears, and let your imagination run wild!

Update: Here is another post along this vein, about using real-world animals in a fantasy setting.