All this discussion is so foreign to me. Worst habits? The pure and perfect (I blush) do not know of nor experience such things. Perhaps you meant hobbits?
I'm neither a writer nor a copy editor so I am sure I miss many nuances when reading (let alone writing). But repeated words/phrases throughout a work jump out at me like fireworks for some reason. Though I certainly have not developed the skill to remember where in the work the occurrences were.
You should count your lucky stars not to be so painfully aware of far too many things. But I do believe that cumulative faux pas penetrate the brains of readers, even if only unconsciously, and add up to a bad reading experience.
Perhaps one day I’ll do a column about basic typographical stuff one keeps an eye on in creating pages that are attractive to the eye, even if most readers could never state explicitly why one page is nice to look at and another page isn’t.
And perhaps a follow up on those brave, stalwart readers who note everything … for example, me—I am the living definition of perfect. (Or is that paranoid?)
Footnote 2 should be taught in schools across the nation. I too was a fan of Concentration, and had completely forgotten about the rebus reveal —the best part. I even created a rebus invitation to my 26th birthday party. You make reading informative and fun, Mr. Dryer. Thank you.
I started on paper as well, 'round about 1993, and developed that same knack!
I don't recall noticing the repeats of "garden-variety" in "Dreyer's English," but I do remember quite a few occurrences of the verb "to festoon.":) Nothing wrong with that; it's a lovely verb.
I too loved "Concentration"; I remember such hosts as Jack Barry, Jack Narz, and Alex Trebek. In addition, I completely relate to being able to find what page, and where on that page, a certain word or phrase previously appeared. I am averse to when authors insist on leaving in repetitions that seem frivolous, but we all know where the buck stops.
You’re welcome! I have only a few pages of Dreyer’s English left to read, so I’m eminently (Can you tell what page I’m on?) happy to have found you here.
I just reread that page and feared I had completely misunderstood it or imagined your adverbial usage. After furiously scanning from there to 233 (I was actually on p. 235), I found your little part about Dorian Gray, which at the time of reading it, prompted—in lieu of scanning back to 183, which of course I should’ve done!—a Merriam-Webster lookup that yielded “to a high degree : VERY”. How’s that for a fussbudgety reply?
Do you mutter and ask questions of the not-present author (and maybe copy editors) as you read? I do, increasingly, as my husband will attest. Please do continue giving me words and reasons for my irritation and outbursts. It makes me feel less eccentric and more learned.
A certain horror/fantasy author, may she rest in peace, was particularly given to overusing "preternatural", as I recall. and now I wonder what words or turns of phrases I overuse...
Do you find that your reading, and sometimes your entire suspension of disbelief, can veer right off the road because of a bad choice of word? I was reading a book by an author whose mellifluity of prose I do admire. And then the author wrote that characters X and Y "rendezvoused" with Z. It was like stepping on a rake. I had to stop and check Merriam-Webster, where I learned that it's perfectly legal. How does that even sound?
As the copy editor of a novel, is it within your remit to suggest that a certain wording "just isn't you"?
You can get away with suggesting that a word is awkward or contextually inelegant, but you have to be very careful not to substitute your judgment and taste for the writer’s. It’s just not your job.
The lack of spatial context — how many pages in, left or right, how far up or down — soured me on e-books early on. Blessed or cursed, I can still tell you from 50 years ago where Buddenbrooks shifts from talking about Hanno, starts a dry description of tuberculosis's fatal progress and I start crying.
I have that kind of awareness when reading, too, but with ebooks I'm finding it's easily replaced by the search function. Especially in cases, where, say, Albert shows up again, and I'm thinking, "Waitaminnit, which one is he?" A quick search, and bam, I'm reminded.
I had not expected to like ebooks when I first got a Kindle, but they've been a wonder.
"And we know where bucks stop, yes?"
But too many don't.
Sadly the buck does not stop at my bank.
All this discussion is so foreign to me. Worst habits? The pure and perfect (I blush) do not know of nor experience such things. Perhaps you meant hobbits?
I'm neither a writer nor a copy editor so I am sure I miss many nuances when reading (let alone writing). But repeated words/phrases throughout a work jump out at me like fireworks for some reason. Though I certainly have not developed the skill to remember where in the work the occurrences were.
You must absolutely cringe at all the ums and ahs one hears from “experts” in interviews.
Strangely that stuff doesn't bother me so much (possibly because I ah and um a lot myself), although I certainly notice when it's egregious.
And somebody else’s.
And the “Yeah, I mean”s.
And all those “likes” …
You should count your lucky stars not to be so painfully aware of far too many things. But I do believe that cumulative faux pas penetrate the brains of readers, even if only unconsciously, and add up to a bad reading experience.
Perhaps one day I’ll do a column about basic typographical stuff one keeps an eye on in creating pages that are attractive to the eye, even if most readers could never state explicitly why one page is nice to look at and another page isn’t.
That would be fascinating.
Oh, then I'll do it!
Please and thank you!
We read with our eyes! Totally obvious and yet some seem oblivious.
Well, I guess I know what my next installment will be!
And perhaps a follow up on those brave, stalwart readers who note everything … for example, me—I am the living definition of perfect. (Or is that paranoid?)
Happens in all sorts of writing. Part of writing tics, more broadly.
In one of the Potter novels, J.K. Rowling got hooked on the "green-eyed dragon of jealousy."
Footnote 2 should be taught in schools across the nation. I too was a fan of Concentration, and had completely forgotten about the rebus reveal —the best part. I even created a rebus invitation to my 26th birthday party. You make reading informative and fun, Mr. Dryer. Thank you.
I started on paper as well, 'round about 1993, and developed that same knack!
I don't recall noticing the repeats of "garden-variety" in "Dreyer's English," but I do remember quite a few occurrences of the verb "to festoon.":) Nothing wrong with that; it's a lovely verb.
My gosh, there are four “festoon”s! That’s a lot of festooning!
I am not adverse to more Kitty and Carlotta references at lunchtime. Or anytime, for that matter.
I too loved "Concentration"; I remember such hosts as Jack Barry, Jack Narz, and Alex Trebek. In addition, I completely relate to being able to find what page, and where on that page, a certain word or phrase previously appeared. I am averse to when authors insist on leaving in repetitions that seem frivolous, but we all know where the buck stops.
If a vampire is on to you, they might glom onto you. (I recently saw the new version of Nosferatu.)
I love reading your writing.
Thank you, David!
You’re welcome! I have only a few pages of Dreyer’s English left to read, so I’m eminently (Can you tell what page I’m on?) happy to have found you here.
I think you’re on p. 183, which means you’re back in the silly section I love so much (if I may say so myself).
I just reread that page and feared I had completely misunderstood it or imagined your adverbial usage. After furiously scanning from there to 233 (I was actually on p. 235), I found your little part about Dorian Gray, which at the time of reading it, prompted—in lieu of scanning back to 183, which of course I should’ve done!—a Merriam-Webster lookup that yielded “to a high degree : VERY”. How’s that for a fussbudgety reply?
Glorious!
Love this so much, having recently done yet another the search through 2nd novel due out May.
Do you mutter and ask questions of the not-present author (and maybe copy editors) as you read? I do, increasingly, as my husband will attest. Please do continue giving me words and reasons for my irritation and outbursts. It makes me feel less eccentric and more learned.
A certain horror/fantasy author, may she rest in peace, was particularly given to overusing "preternatural", as I recall. and now I wonder what words or turns of phrases I overuse...
Do you find that your reading, and sometimes your entire suspension of disbelief, can veer right off the road because of a bad choice of word? I was reading a book by an author whose mellifluity of prose I do admire. And then the author wrote that characters X and Y "rendezvoused" with Z. It was like stepping on a rake. I had to stop and check Merriam-Webster, where I learned that it's perfectly legal. How does that even sound?
As the copy editor of a novel, is it within your remit to suggest that a certain wording "just isn't you"?
You can get away with suggesting that a word is awkward or contextually inelegant, but you have to be very careful not to substitute your judgment and taste for the writer’s. It’s just not your job.
The lack of spatial context — how many pages in, left or right, how far up or down — soured me on e-books early on. Blessed or cursed, I can still tell you from 50 years ago where Buddenbrooks shifts from talking about Hanno, starts a dry description of tuberculosis's fatal progress and I start crying.
I have that kind of awareness when reading, too, but with ebooks I'm finding it's easily replaced by the search function. Especially in cases, where, say, Albert shows up again, and I'm thinking, "Waitaminnit, which one is he?" A quick search, and bam, I'm reminded.
I had not expected to like ebooks when I first got a Kindle, but they've been a wonder.
❤️