There are some things in the world of writing and publishing that I am very good at. And, after many years in the business, there are other things I know I am not quite so good at.
Proofreading is one of them.
Now, before anyone starts wondering whether they've entrusted their precious manuscript to a man who wouldn't recognise a spelling mistake if it jumped off the page and introduced itself, allow me to explain.
I edit. I don't proofread.
And there is a difference. A very important one.
Editing is about the writing itself. The structure, the narrative, the flow, the language, the pace and the way everything comes together. Does that sentence work? Is that paragraph necessary? Have we already made this point three times? Does the story move naturally from one chapter to the next? Is the author's voice coming through?
These are the things I concentrate on.
Editing can involve moving passages around, suggesting alternative wording, tightening sentences, questioning inconsistencies and occasionally advising an author that their lovingly crafted 800-word description of a garden shed might be better expressed in about 40.
It is about making the writing as good as it can possibly be without losing the voice, personality and intentions of the person whose story is being told.
And, yes, I will correct spelling, punctuation and grammatical errors as I go along.
But that doesn't make me a proofreader.
Proofreading is a different discipline altogether.
It is the final, painstaking examination of a manuscript before publication. The proofreader is looking for those little mistakes that have somehow survived everything that has gone before.
A missing word. An extra word. An incorrectly placed apostrophe. An inconsistent spelling. A full stop that has wandered off somewhere. A character whose surname has mysteriously acquired an additional letter halfway through the book.
Even something as apparently insignificant as a space where there shouldn't be one.
The sort of things that most readers might not consciously notice but which, collectively, can make the difference between a professionally presented book and one that looks as though it was hurriedly assembled on the kitchen table.
And the really good proofreaders?
They spot things that I would never, ever have noticed.
Not because I'm careless. Not because I'm incapable of recognising an error. But because my brain is doing something entirely different when I read a manuscript.
I am reading for meaning, rhythm, character and narrative.
A proofreader is reading for precision.
There is also the problem of familiarity. When you have written or edited something, particularly over several months, you become so accustomed to the words that your brain starts reading what it expects to see rather than what is actually there.
You know what the sentence is supposed to say.
Unfortunately, that isn't always what you've written.
A fresh pair of eyes, particularly a professionally trained pair, is invaluable.
Different talents. Equal importance.
I have enormous respect for good proofreaders.
And I use the word good deliberately, because proofreading is not simply a matter of possessing a dictionary, knowing where commas should go or having a particularly enthusiastic relationship with the spellchecker.
It requires patience, concentration, consistency, judgement and an extraordinary eye for detail.
It also requires knowing when not to interfere.
A writer might deliberately use a sentence fragment. An editor might preserve an unusual expression because it captures the author's personality perfectly. A proofreader needs to recognise the difference between an intentional stylistic choice and a genuine mistake.
That takes skill.
I sometimes think that writers and proofreaders possess two quite different ways of looking at the same page.
One sees the bigger picture. The other sees every tiny detail within it.
Neither is necessarily better than the other.
Indeed, I suspect that some of the finest proofreaders would struggle to write a compelling 80,000-word memoir from scratch, just as some wonderfully talented writers would struggle to identify every inconsistency in a finished manuscript.
Of course, there are people who can do both exceptionally well.
But I am not convinced that everyone should be expected to.
We have different strengths, different instincts and different professional disciplines.
And publishing is all the better for it.
A particularly impressive encounter.
Over the years, I have known and worked alongside a number of proofreaders, some of whom have been exceptionally talented.
But last year I encountered one who, without question, was the most impressive I have ever worked with.
Her attention to detail was quite extraordinary.
Forensic is probably the best word I can use.
She spotted things that had escaped everyone else, including me, and did so with a consistency that was frankly remarkable.
But that wasn't what impressed me most.
It was her approach.
Because there is another quality that I think is essential in anyone involved in the editorial process, and one that doesn't always receive the recognition it deserves.
Professional respect.
This particular proofreader understood that she was working with a manuscript into which an author, and indeed an editor, had invested considerable time, effort and emotion.
She didn't approach the work as an opportunity to demonstrate how clever she was or how many mistakes she could find.
Nor did she treat every query as evidence that someone else had done a poor job.
Instead, her observations were constructive, thoughtful and invariably positive in tone.
Where something needed attention, she explained why.
Where a passage was open to interpretation, she raised a question rather than issuing a decree.
And where something had clearly been written in a particular way for a reason, she respected that.
Our exchanges were friendly, professional and mutually respectful throughout.
There was no sense of competition. No territorial battle over whose interpretation was correct. No suggestion that one person's contribution was somehow more valuable than another's.
Just two professionals, bringing different skills to the same project, with one shared objective.
To make the finished book as good as it could possibly be.
I found the experience refreshing, rewarding and, frankly, a pleasure.
I won't name her publicly here, partly because I haven't asked her permission to do so.
But if you are looking for an exceptional proofreader, please do send me a private message. I would be delighted to put you in touch.
She really is that good.
Why every book deserves one.
I occasionally encounter authors who regard proofreading as an unnecessary expense.
After all, they've written the book, read it through several times, perhaps had friends and relatives look at it and maybe even employed an editor.
Surely that's enough?
Well, not necessarily.
Your friends might love your story. Your editor might have helped transform it into a beautifully structured and engaging manuscript.
But neither guarantees that the finished pages are free of mistakes.
And while a single typo is hardly going to bring civilisation crashing down around our ears, a succession of them can undermine a reader's confidence in the book.
It can also distract from what really matters.
The story.
A professionally proofread manuscript isn't necessarily a perfect one. Even the most diligent proofreader is human, and the occasional mistake can still slip through.
But it gives your book the best possible chance of reaching its readers in the condition it deserves.
Which is why, when someone asks me whether I can proofread their manuscript, my answer is generally a polite no.
Not because I regard the work as beneath me.
Quite the opposite.
I respect the craft too much to pretend that I possess the particular talents of someone who has devoted themselves to mastering it.
I know what I do well.
I know what others do better.
And I am perfectly happy with that arrangement.
After all, the best books aren't necessarily the work of one brilliant individual.
They're often the result of several people, each contributing their own particular expertise, working together with a common purpose.
And if that means somebody else spots the missing apostrophe, the wandering comma or the character who has inexplicably changed his name from Peter to Paul on page 173, then I shall be delighted.
So there we are.
Proofreading is a highly skilled profession, proofreaders deserve our respect, and I would strongly reccomend that every author employs one before their book goes to print.
And I think that just about covers everthing.
Perfectly.
