Here's a model of lively, self-confident writing, on (of all things) the mundane, thankless, and, for so many of us, painful job of proof-reading or, as described in Lori Fradkin's professional world, copy-editing: "
What It's Really Like To Be A Copy Editor." It's a strange sort of world, in other words, not unlike some college writing classes, where commas and, more often, hyphens, make a big difference.
The job has its perks—an accumulation of random knowledge, for instance—but it also has its side effects when you unintentionally drink the copy Kool-Aid. Once you train yourself to spot errors, you can’t not spot them. You can’t simply shut off the careful reading when you leave the office. You notice typos in novels, missing words in other magazines, incorrect punctuation on billboards. You have nightmares that your oversight turned Mayor Bloomberg into a "pubic" figure.
SSTA: What do you see as the real benefits, if any, for such a concern with the details of language? Does this concern have anything to do with the details of thought? Or put another way, what's wrong with saying, "I COULD care less," when expressing your total lack of interest, or, to be a bit more topical, confusing or blending
refute and
repudiate?
