The ending lines of The Great Gatsby make any good list of the best closings in literature. The last line is perfect while the penultimate paragraph is perplexing:
Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us.
It eluded us then, but that’s no matter — tomorrow we will run faster, stretch our arms
further . . . And one fine morning —
Savor that paragraph for a moment divorced of the final paragraph. F. Scott Fitzgerald’s impeccable wording seems imprecise, uncertain, elusive. The punctuation, defying convention, serves as visual poetry, echoing the grasping thought process of the narrator. Its uncertainty contrasts with the final line, one of realization and acceptance, the end of youthful optimism:
So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.
It’s hard to consider the penultimate paragraph without the last. But I wonder how many people stop at it and think, “Gosh, this could use a good editor.”
English has a lot of conventions—best not to call them rules—that sometimes fall apart when we try to apply them in all possible situations. Sometimes, it’s best to just not go there.
If we want to make a noun possessive, we typically add an apostrophe and an s. Mark’s wise words, for example.
It was pointed out to me by a fellow copy editor that Amy Einsohn, in The Copyeditor’s Handbook, recommends making a phrase or title in quotation marks possessive in the same way. The result is not pretty. Continue reading
The end of daylight saving time offers an opportunity for people prone to correcting to remind us the middle word is singular—”daylight saving time”—although in casual use, it’s just as often rendered plural.
The form “daylight savings time,” exists for no particular reason except for our predilection to pluralize “saving.” There is little harm in the variant form, and most good dictionaries record “savings” as an alternative.
It’s Shakespeare’s 450th birthday, more or less, and all of Twitter is a stage for stories about the immortal one.
There is no time for me to read of Shakespeare morning until night, so I created a list of links pulled from Twitter today for your leisurely reading enjoyment, The first one is my own, so I may be a poor jurist. But all the others I have read or intend to read.
The following column originally appeared on Copyediting.com in two parts. As I have no space limitations, here it is in its entirety for your convenience.
The first part is here: http://www.copyediting.com/dont-be-intimidated-twitters-learning-curve#sthash.3kcwQN11.dpuf
And here is the second part: http://www.copyediting.com/twitters-place-engage-wordies#sthash.IXRo0pir.dpuf
Twitter is technically simple, but conceptually difficult. When I started, I tweeted useful tips and followed people who I thought might be interested. Eventually, I started following people I thought were interesting. It took me a long time to understand that people talking to me weren’t necessarily talking to everybody and that when I said something, people weren’t necessarily listening. I think I’ve experienced all the Twitter epiphanies, but it took me a long time.
I wrote a blog entry for Copyediting about the failure of a reporter and editors at the Guardian to check the sources on a story about a newly popular eye-licking fetish causing an increase in eye infections in Japan. The fetish exists, though it’s hard to tell how prevalent it is.