Any writer old enough to remember typewriters, and the laborious task of working on long documents that required several drafts, will appreciate just how wonderful stand-alone wordprocessors, then ones on computers, actually are. An added benefit was the spellchecking facility, and in more recent years a range of online dictionaries to consult. There came a point where I realised my trusty old Oxford Dictionary was going unused, gathering dust, and I came close to getting rid of it to create more shelf-space.
Now, I’ve come to realise that I’m glad I didn’t – because I’m using it again. The reason? Modern dictionaries are no longer the authoritative reference guides they used to be – and still should be. If ever there was any doubt or dispute about the spelling or usage of a particular word, you used to be able to consult a reputable dictionary for an authoritative adjudication. In the modern way of things, dictionaries are liable to say, Well, it should be spelt like this, it used to mean that – but lots of people spell it like this and use it to mean that, so that’s okay too. See how nice and inclusive we are?! ‘Percent’ is an Americanism – in UK English it should be ‘per cent’. My old Oxford supports me – but not the online Collins I’ve been using.
I often think back to a great book by Bill Bryson called Troublesome Words, in which he points out, often amusingly, words which are commonly misspelt or used in ways which don’t reflect their true meaning. For years in my role as an editor and critiquer (is that actually a word, Bill?) of manuscripts, I used to tell people that ‘Alright’, in the words of My Bryson, ‘ought never to appear in serious writing’; that ‘enormity’ means simething wicked or evil and does not relate to ‘enormous size’ as modern dictionaries now allow because so many people mistakenly believe it does. ‘Comprise’ means ‘contain’; you wouldn’t say ‘contained of’, and so ‘comprised of’ is, says Bill, always wrong. I like that stamp of authority: ‘always wrong’ – not something we will ever see again in the world of modern, touch-feely dictionaries which don’t want to tell anyone they’ve got it wrong.
Regular readers will know that I like to highlight, not to mention praise, useful signage in public places, and today I present a new addition to the pantheon. (I’m not sure what a pantheon actually is, but it sounds pretty impressive and I believe this sign warrants being part of one.)
I recently paid a visit to the interesting town of Glastonbury, place of myth, magic, and people with rainbow coloured jumpers and innovative hair-do’s who wander around talking to themselves. (The first time I ever visited Glastonbury, I spotted a man who looked strangely like a balding bank manager in a frock, lolling on a bench. After I’d passed by, I heard a weird high-pitched sound and turned to see him running howling down the street. I’d like to think I wasn’t the cause ot this reaction.)
Glastonbury is also, of course, a place of history, and I felt drawn to the impressive George and Pilgrim inn, a fourteenth century building originally built to refresh pilgrims to Glastonbury Abbey, and whose toilet door locks are apparently original. Later in the day I visted a pleasant local cafe, complete with modern toilet locks – and this very useful sign:
I’m always impressed when retail establishments do the thinking so that you don’t have to. Some customers might have considered ferrying buckets of water from the sink in a gallant but laborious attempt to flush the toilet after use. Upon noticing the knob, they may have tried to twist or pull it. Others may have simply passed their hands over it, considering it to be a touch-sensitive control. It would undoubtedly make a good protuberance from which to hang a coat or perhaps stylish shoulder bag of some kind – possibly one made of hemp, which is, it seems, a popular material in those parts.
But no – thanks to the foresight of the management, we have a sign almost as large as the cistern and are left in no doubt – that mystery button you are confronted with is to be pushed – in order to achieve the desired effect. Not only pushed, please note, but pushed in. How many people, without the aid of this sign, would have fallen into the trap of pushing the button out? Or even have shaken it all about? I dread to think. We salute you, Coffee Zero.
I’m currently beavering away on two different projects, as well as dipping my toe into the water of a third. It’s not an ideal way to work, but when a new and promising idea comes to me I can’t resist doing some prelimary investigation – which often leads beyond the ‘preliminary’. Anyway, Dickens, one of my literary heroes was almost always juggling with several things at once, so I’m in good company. One of the things I’m writing is going to be called The Rocket Men, and is about inventors of devices (mainly rockets and mortars) to fire lines out to ships that had run aground offshore, but whose crews couldn’t be rescued because the wind and surf was to high to launch boats.Thanks to the wonders of the internet, I no longer have to travel around the country to access archives and other records the way I did when I started writing historical non-fiction. This is good in a way, but although it’s an expensive way to do research (especially when an overnight stay is needed) I do miss those trips – and I’m pleased to say I had a rather memorable one a few days ago. There was some correspondence relating to one of my Rocket Men at the Wren Library, which is part of Trinity College, Cambridge. I had no idea what to expect, but I have to say that once inside the hallowed walls, the place was breathtaking: I was completely in awe of the history, the architecture, the general ambience. The college itself was founded during the reign of Henry VIII, and the Wren Library is so called because it was designed by Sir Christopher himself, and I doubt whether he would notice much difference if he were to visit it today. It’s like entering the nave of a cathedral, complete with stained glass windows, and numerous beautiful, intricate wooden carvings. A memorable trip.
I haven’t been posting for quite some time, owing to a variety of reasons, including other commitments, alien abduction (suspected) and pure indolence. My reason for returning is to announce the 27th Annual Useful Signs Awards.
I regularly send out an army of researchers to seek out and record the world’s most useful signs – they’re a bit like the Google Streetview people, only armed with cheap smartphones. I’m sure you’ve seen them out and about, and no doubt waved at their cameras in a most jocular way.
Anyway, the task of my dedicated international team is to identify public signage without which we would all be in danger – possibly mortal! The people behind such life-saving notices are rarely recognised – our aim is to put that right.
So on to this year’s awards. Although you can’t see me (I hope) I am actually opening a golden envelope with slightly trembling fingers right at this moment to reveal:
The 2021 runner-up is……………………………….
Nottingham University!
Here we see the sign in action (which happens to have been snapped by myself)
So far, so good, I hear you say. But wait till you see what perils this sign alerts you to:
I’m sure you can all see that should you happen to be sleep walking, suffering from some sort of hallucinatory disorder, or in a thousand other scenarios, you may not realise that a vast expanse of (knee deep) water lay ahead of you, vault the six foot high wall or the four foot high barrier and find yourself in big trouble. Nottingham University, we salute you.
It was a close call this year, but the winner is:
The Whitby Local Council-type organisation-thingy (exact name not yet ascertained).
This picture (which also happens to have been taken by myself) illustrates the perils which daily face those who visit our shorelines: beautiful, yes, but full of hidden menace.
We can instantly recognise that without the aid of this sign, people would no doubt try to scramble up or down those jagged rocks either side of the steps, at best scraping knees and shins, at worst – well, it doesn’t bear thinking about.
Thanks you, Whitby Council-type-thingy: your citizens can rest easy tonight.
A couple of years ago, in my freelance capacity I worked with an author called James Hopson on Captain Satsuma Has Landed, a zany children’s book that also provides a fun introduction to environmental and healthy eating issues.
I’m pleased to say that it was not only published, but has now won an award. Congratulations, James, and hopefully it will be the first of many!
James’ own announcement:
Fantastic News to Share. We’ve WON!! ‘Captain Satsuma has Landed’ storybook has WON a BEST in the UK Award. Self-Published last year the book introduces children to food in fun ways. We would like to say a Huge thank you to World Cookbook Fair – Gourmand International – Gourmand Awards for recognising our efforts in encourage children to make healthy choices in their everyday lives. Our efforts have also seen us become a Finalist for a World Award which takes place in Paris in the summer. As a first-time author I’m delighted by this news, and to also be representing the UK. I would like to say a massive thank you to everyone for their support, with a special mention going to the following: Russell Becker of Rocket Pixels for illustrations: Martyn Beardsley, Story Critic. Follow his blog ramblesofawriter; Caroline Petherick The-Wordsmith for Proofreading; St Austell Printing Company for Book Printing. Book available at http://ow.ly/dnpb50BbAX0.
Today while writing up a critique on a client’s picture book manuscript, I fished around on Amazon for a similar type of story that I could offer as an example of a successful published book of a similar kind.
I somehow landed on The Worrysaurus by Rachel Bright. It looks like a good picture book with great illustrations – imagine my dismay, then, when I came across an offensive word! That word, readers, was gotten. (Apologies if I have offended anyone by my explicit use of the G-word, but it had to be said.)
The author is apparently English, the publishers (Orchard) are English, and the vast majority of readers will be British children. The problem is, ‘gotten’ isn’t a British English word. In the good old days we could have found that out by consulting a dictionary. But that was when dictionaries provided guidance on what was right and wrong, whereas now they ask us what is right and wrong, and correct their works accordingly on a regular basis.
Yes, I hear you cry, we used to say ‘gotten’ in 1375 so it means it’s all right now. But we also used to say ‘hornswoggle’, ‘gallimaufry’, and, of course, ‘nimgimmer’, as well as wearing flares and making fire by rubbing sticks together.
Let’s be clear, English people only use ‘gotten’ because they have heard people say it on Friends or The Simpsons, and obviously if it’s on Friends or The Simpsons it must not only be cool, but correct for all right-thinking Brits.
Well, the dictionaries might have given up the fight, but I haven’t. Be warned that this blog has power! Presidents change their opinions because of it. The stock market is influenced by it. Did you really think that toothpaste manufacturers really started using those more convenient flip-open tops because some marketing or design expert came up with the idea? Think again!
And writers, think again before using the G-word and any other such abomination!
Rambles of a Writer 