Typical Day

Typical Day

Theo Saurus walks into the office ten minutes past 10:00AM. He hates being late because it pushes his busy day into overdrive. He was up late editing the manuscript for his own novel. It's a story about a saucy woman who falls in love with a pancake. The pancake moves to Paris and turns into a total crepe. (Good thing he has a day job.)

The deadline for this article that he's editing closes at the end of the day. (Close is an industry term for when an article has to be completed for publication.) Generally, The Talker magazine closes their critic pieces in the beginning of the week, fiction closes on Wednesday, and the longer pieces close by the end of the day on Friday. He already has fifteen emails from the head of the copy department. Sigh.

Theo sits to read a piece about a new play. There are several changes that need to be made. He changes the word colour to color. Who wrote this article? The Queen? Furthermore, the writer did not spell out all the numbers. The play is about the plight of Socialist seals sailing the high seas during the summer. All but one speak with a lisp. They suspect he's selling stock on the exchange. They exchange the trader for a sandwich.

Made by the Earl of Sandwich himself.

"This guy must not have read The Talker's style guide before submitting this missive. Didn't you proofread before I got it?" Theo complains to his co-worker.

"Why?" Amy asks, as she snaps away at bubblegum and proofs an article about what puppies dream entitled "Pavlovian REM."

"He's not using the serial comma. How easy is it to place a comma before a coordinating conjunction?"

"We have Cheerios in the kitchen."

Theo gulps down his third coffee du jour. Words are starting to blur. Seals look like steals, and now the article is reading like a Guy Ritchie movie. Theo doesn't want to end up like his predecessor. That copy editor made the mistake of misspelling the Arab group "Shiite" when writing the headline "Shiite Hits the Fan After Pushing Way Through Papparazzi."

He looks at the queries made by the proofreader. (Proofreader queries ask questions about the content of the piece.) For example, a proofreader may ask why there isn't a comma in a sentence. If the editor believes that no comma is warranted, then they'll cross out the query; if they think it is needed, they'll make the correction.

He checks his watch. There's just enough time to grab a sandwich before the closing meeting. Generally, a "closing meeting" consists of the writer of the piece, a fact checker, and editor going over the piece one last time to make sure that all of the piece meets the standards of the company. 

His phone starts ringing (to go along with the same sounds in his head) before the meeting. It's his editor's secretary again. Theo's book is being published later that month, and his own editor has been on him to follow some of his suggestions. The last thing that Theo likes is having his own work edited, but in a way, it allows him to relate to the writers who have their pieces edited by him everyday. Having your work edited is like going to school with a new haircut. You never know how it will be received.

The meeting goes well and the piece is set to close after one final reading. It is six o'clock and Theo's far from leaving the office. He must reread the piece and make sure it's ready to go. He's probably read it eight times by now, but that's when things get dangerous and his eyes aren't fresh to pick up problems.

"Angizwa! Anganomkahankanyo!" Theo exclaims. Dick learned the Zulu language working as a reporter covering the mating ritual of vervet monkeys for National Geographic. He had problems enunciating, which explains many of his tribal tattoos.

He was looking pale, so his girlfriend told him to get a little color. This isn't what she meant.

There's an incorrect spelling for an airport in Alaska in the piece. Years ago, Dick's cousin flew to the airport and bought a souvenir mug for him. It just so happens that this souvenir mug is on his desk. He calls the writer to talk about the spelling.

8:00PM rolls around. There are emails from writers that need attending to for next week's piece.

Dick daydreams about the Chinese food he's going to eat while working on his own book's manuscript. If he's lucky, he'll be out of the office in an hour. It'll be a mu shu midnight tonight.