Saturday, March 8th, 2014
Today is National Proofreading Day.
I’m a pretty good proofreader, though I’m not sure that’s good. I get way too much pleasure in discovering other people’s imperfections.
But maybe that’s my problem, because here are just two examples of what happens when there’s no proofreader.
First, here’s the bottle of capsules I would buy because it’s least expensive. But really! I don’t want to just burp less. I want to be burpless.
Second, lest we think that’s no big deal, Mr. Adrian Monk warns of the corrupting, irreversible generational affect:
“I’ve never understood why Bill is short for William,” interjected Stottlemeyer. “Where does the B come from?”“Why is Bob short for Robert,” I said. “Where does that B come from?”“Misspellings that went uncorrected and, as a result, went on to contaminate the entire English language,” Monk said. “Let that be a warning to us all on the importance of proofreading.”
Today is National Proofreading Day. Proofreaders, keep your hearts pure and minimize your glee as you wield your slashing red pens. Readers, go find a proofreader to hug.
(And if you discover any errors in this post, keep it to yourself. I dish it out better than I take it.)
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