I’m sure we’ve all done the brainteaser where the word ‘the’ is repeated in print but when it is read out loud, invariably only one ‘the’ is read. Wordsmiths, however, being astute and wise to the ways of words, tend to notice it and triumphantly read ‘the’ twice.
It doesn’t always happen like that though. And the woe and anguish that fill an editor’s mind, heart and soul when something that should have been picked up is missed because the brain chose to see something different even while the eyes were sharply scanning the copy – and is pointed out when it is too late – is deep and lasting.
Tragically, it seems that even though thousands of typographical errors were picked up and fixed, it’s the one – the single one – that the brain ignored that is noticed. And too little credit is given for the excellent work that was done.
I often ponder the ball-juggling analogy. When you drop a metaphorical ball in life, it crashes and clangs and rolls and causes untold panic. I so long for generous recognition of the fact that I am still juggling several – sometimes many – other balls. However, that’s not life and this is the profession we have chosen, for good reason, for better or for worse.
So here’s the thing. These musings came up recently in the process of a book review being edited for PEGboard. The book is Shady Characters: Ampersands, Interrobangs and other Typographical Curiosities, by Keith Houston. In the copy of the review, when the book title was repeated, it came up as Shady Characters: Ampersands in Terror, Bangs and other Typographical Curiosities. The error first occurred because the writer – Melissa Davidson (who’s given full permission to use her name) – dictates her writing. The review came to me, I read it and sent it to the editor, it came back and I sent it to Melissa, who reviewed it and sent it back to me. I decided to look for the book online and copied the name to paste it into Google. It came up, but with the caveat, Missing: Terror. It was only then that I investigated the copy that had winged its way from editor to editor and found the autocorrected name. We are laughing, a little nervously, at the realisation that our sneaky brains had sailed past the (oh so apt) ‘terror bangs’ without the slightest pause. We share this horror story as a salutary lesson for all of us!

Titivillus is a demon said to introduce errors into the work of scribes. This is a 14th century illustration of Titivullus at a scribe’s desk. Artist unknown.
More years ago than should be counted, my grandfather – then a prolific author and publisher – shared this poem (by anon) with me when I was relating, with some distress, my experiences as a junior writer and editor of newsletters. Some of you will have encountered this bit of genius, but it’s worth revisiting and shaking your head to in collective sympathy for the editor who missed it.
The typographical error* [Anon]
The typographical error is a slippery thing and sly,
You can hunt till you are dizzy, but it somehow will get by.
‘Til the forms are off the presses, it is strange how still it keeps,
It shrinks down in a corner and it never stirs or peeps.
That typographical error, too small for human eyes,
‘Til the ink is on the paper, when it grows to mountain size.
The boss he stares with horror, then grabs his hair and groans.
The copyreader drops his head upon his hands and moans.
The remainder of the issue may be clean as clean can be …
But the typographical error is the only thing you see.
It remains the lot of editors to always avoid missing slippery and sly typographical errors.
*The earliest publishing of this poem I have found online is in the USA’s Journal of the National Medical Association, January 1947 edition
Feature picture: Unsplash
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