The Editing Agenda: Capitalization

Capitalization is one of those pain-in-the-butt rules of punctuation that I loathe. In fact, to be perfectly honest, I hated the thought of writing a post on it, but this is one of those topics that I knew needed to be tackled. So rather than give you laundry list of a billion different types of instances that require capitalization, for the sake of your sanity and my own, I’m going to stick with the main ones that pop up in fiction (and some nonfiction). And throw in some examples of course!

General, Nobility, and Military Titles

General Titles

General titles are only capitalized if they are used before names—unless the title is followed by a comma, in which case it remains lowercase. Titles are NOT capitalized if they come after a name or if they’re used in place of a name.

Example 1a: The president* is speaking later today.

Example 1b: The inauguration of President Obama took place on January 20, 2009.

Example 1c: The president, Barack Obama, was inaugurated on January 20.

*Note: Some writers choose to capitalize titles for those people high in government ranking out of respect, but this style is going by the wayside. Most modern style guides are in favor of lowercase with the only exception being Speaker, as in Speaker of the House.

Example 2a: The treasurer of the class, Katie Smith, raised her hand.

Example 2b: Treasurer Katie Smith took her place.

However, be aware that official titles are not the same thing as occupations. Occupations should not be capitalized before a full name.

• teacher John Smith
• author Edgar Allan Poe
• actress Sandra Bullock

Note: Sometimes style guides express different opinions. The occupations of professor and manager, for example, are sometimes accepted as titles rather than occupations. However, as a whole, most style guides are in favor of keeping things lowercase, including The Chicago Manual of Style.

Nobility Titles

When it comes to medieval terms, a lot of people mistakenly believe that words such as sir, my lady (alternative milady), my lord (alternative milord), and several other similar titles are always capitalized. However, as is the case with the other titles listed, they are generally only capitalized when used with a name.

Example 1a: King George depended on his loyal subjects.

Example 1b: The king’s favorite food was chocolate-covered strawberries.

Example 2a: Have you seen Sir Lancelot?

Example 2b: Have you seen him, my good sir?

One exception to this is when the generic elements (king, queen, prince, duke, duchess, etc.) are used with a specific location, thereby making the generic element a permanent extension of the person’s name.

Example: He received a letter from the Prince of Wales.

Military Titles

As with general titles, when used in formal or academic prose, military titles are only capitalized when they precede a person’s name.

Example 1a: General Michael Smith was recently promoted.

Example 1b: Michael Smith, the general of the unit, was recently promoted.

Degrees, Departments, and Courses

Academic degrees, as well as departments and courses, should be lowercased when they are used in general terms.

Example 1a: He received bachelor’s degree in liberal arts.

Example 1b: Mary studied mechanical engineering.

Example 1c: I took calculus and statistics my first semester in college.

Example 1d: Is Mike’s major psychology or philosophy?

The name of a specific degree can be capitalized, however, when it is used as part of a title, such as on a résumé or business card.

Example 2a (résumé format):

B.A. in Professional Writing

Minors in German, Psychology

Example 2b: I obtained my B.A. in professional writing and have minors in German and psychology.

As far as courses go, they should only be capitalized when the specific course title is being named.

Example 3a: I took Physics: Electricity and Magnetism during my sophomore year.

Example 3b: I took physics during my sophomore year.

Unnecessary capitalization of these items is definitely one of the most common mistakes I see, especially in bios, so this is a big one to watch out for.

Books and Other Works

As a general rule, for titles of books, magazines, journals, websites, short stories, and many other types of publications, the standard method is to capitalize the first and last words and all other major words. This includes nouns, pronouns, verbs, adjective, adverbs, and some conjunctions (except and, but, for, or, and nor).

The articles a, an, and the are always lowercased. Prepositions are also lowercased, regardless of length, except when they are used adverbially or adjectivally (Fess Up, Step Down, Off Switch, Come To). However, the word to is lowercased not only as a preposition in most cases but also as part of an infinitive (to Watch, to Surrender).

A couple of additional notes:

• Part of proper names that are lowercased in text, such as de or von, should be kept as lowercase in a title.
• The second part of a species name is always lowercased, even if it’s the last word in a title.

Seasons and Time of Day

The four seasons should be lowercased unless they are used as part of the issue title of a journal or magazine.

Example 1a: December marks the start of winter.

Example 1b: The Winter 2015 issue has been published.

Abbreviations for time of day are capitalized depending on whether or not periods are used to punctuation them:

Example 2a: He left at 6:41 p.m.

Example 2b: He left at 6:41 PM.

Deities and Concepts

Names of any deity, whether part of monotheistic or polytheistic religions, are capitalized. Religious events also follow suit (the Creation, the Exodus, the Second Coming).

Terms for divine dwelling places, divine places of punishment, and other such concepts (heaven, hell, limbo, nirvana) are usually lowercased. However, they are often capitalized when used in solely religious context.

As I mentioned at the beginning of this article, these are the main problematic areas of capitalization that I’ve come across. But if you’re looking for an extensive resource on this topic, The Chicago Manual of Style has a hefty section dedicated to it. You can also find most of the answers to the common questions they receive in the forums on their website, part of which you can view for free if you Google “CMOS” plus the topic at hand.

The Editing Agenda: Tackling Tags

While I’ve made several posts in the past about dialogue, today it’s time to tackle tags. During my experience as an editor, I’ve corrected a ridiculous number of tags. In fact, they’re probably the biggest issue I run into—apart from maybe commas. What makes them such a struggle for writers? Honestly, I think the methodology has a lot to do with it. When many of us write, my included, we tend to get the story down on paper as quickly as possible and worry about the structure later. And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. However, eventually we have to the editing stage. So what better time to hunt down the little boogers and spruce them up? This article will focus on the ins and outs of tags: what works as a tag, what doesn’t, and why diversity in tags can sometimes be a downfall.

Tag, You’re It!

The general purpose of a tag is to describe who is speaking and to indict tone of the dialogue.

Some tags may be very simple: “Put the water on to boil,” said Tommy.

Others may be more elaborate: “Why would you do this?” she asked in a strangled voice.

They can even be coupled with an action: “Of course,” he said, waving goodbye.

But all tags are used to further clarify the dialogue within the given context. Oftentimes, they are a way of depicting emotions as well as what is being said. But BE CAREFUL about using tags to convey emotion, especially if you’re relying on adverbs to do so. Usually, a much better way of illustrating these emotions is to use characters’ body language, facial expressions, and even the words themselves. While including some emotion in a tag’s description is okay, too much falls dangerously into the telling category. The best way to avoid this is to ask yourself, “Can this be shown better through the character’s actions or by others’ responses?” If the answer is yes, your tag probably could use some tweaking.

Example A (adverbial tag): “Are you going anywhere with this?” Jane asked impatiently.

Example B (alternative): “Are you going anywhere with this?” Jane asked, crossing her arms and pursing her lips.

While Example A definitely conveys Jane’s emotions and signifies that she is the one asking a question, it definitely lies more in the realm of telling. There’s no clear image of what the character is doing to show that she’s impatient, and it doesn’t engage the reader. Example B fulfills the function of a tag, and it does a much better job of showing how Jane feels without stating anything directly.

Not It!

A tag isn’t a linked reaction the dialogue. This concept can be tricky, because a lot of actions sound like they could be tags—but they aren’t. For instance:

“Well, of course I didn’t!” Joanie giggled.

Giggling, while an action often associated with what someone has said, is a reaction to the dialogue being spoken, not a description of the tone used or a simple signpost for who said the line; therefore, it’s NOT a tag. Here are a few other actions often mistakenly used as tags:

• Coughed
• Laughed
• Hissed
• Nodded
• Smiled
• Sighed

The best way to catch these pesky creatures is to make use of the search and find feature on your word processor. It can home in on all those non-tags (sometimes referred to as bookisms) for you in a matter of seconds. Once you’ve found all the subpar tags, get to work revising and tweaking them until you have a solid base sprinkled with appropriate actions to convey emotions. Your readers will thank you for it.

Keep It Simple

There’s still some debate over this technique, but I think editors and publishers as a whole have come to the consensus that when it comes to dialogue tags, keeping it simple is best. That doesn’t mean you can’t have some diversity in your tags or pepper them with action where necessary—in fact, using action with tags is a necessity to avoiding a phenomenon called talking heads—but tags are one place where variation isn’t necessarily a good thing.

The word said is one of the best markers you can use in dialogue. It serves the primary function of dialogue, to depict who is speaking, and accompanying actions can be used to further enhance the scene by conveying emotion and even tone of the dialogue. While it may feel like using “said” multiple times in a scene would be tiresome to the reader, quite the opposite is true. Readers treat the word like a signpost: it directs them without interrupting the flow of the narration, and that makes for a smoother reading.

If you want some extra tips on using tags, I highly recommend checking out this article by Writer’s Digest. They give excellent examples and go even more in-depth about showing vs. telling when it comes to dialogue and tags.

The Editing Agenda: One Space or Two?

It's a common question posed quite often in the grammar community: How many spaces should be used after a period? Some will argue that it's always been two and that people simply got lazy with word processing, and others will insist that two spaces are no longer needed. So which is correct? The issue is actually more about formatting than it is a grammar or punctuation one, and it has everything to do with the evolution of word processing and the printing industry. So let’s start at the beginning.

A Brief History

Long before computers existed, there were typewriters. Before that, there was movable type, or manual printing. Before that, everything was recorded by hand. The evolution of fonts and typeface, along with the history of printing, is actually quite fascinating. But without giving you an in-depth history lesson of everything from Johannes Gutenberg’s introduction of movable type to the West or what was known as the “writing ball” typewriter—the first of its kind—to modern-day word processing, let’s talk about why two spaces were ever used.

When letterpress printing still dominated the publishing industry, everything still had to be done by hand. Molds of each letter were used in various font matrices to produce exact copies of letters each time they were pressed onto the material they were printed on. They pretty much worked like giant stamps. As such, each of the letters were the same width within the block. That meant spacing between each word mimicked that of the spacing between sentences. Therefore, it became somewhat difficult to tell where one sentence ended and the other began when quickly glancing at each line.

Monospace vs. Proportional

When typewriters came along, the system was more automated, but there was one carryover: the monospace font. Monospace fonts (also known as non-proportional or fixed fonts) use the same amount of space, or kerning, between each letter. The Courier font is a good example of this. Pull up your favorite word processor, and you’ll see that if you change everything to Courier or Courier New, each letter will occupy an equal amount of space as the next. The space between each word, also referred to as tracking, is also fixed.

Now compare a paragraph of text in Times New Roman to one in Courier New. Which is easier to read? You probably picked the paragraph in Times New Roman. This has everything to do with spacing. They are both serif fonts—meaning they both have stems, or little feet, at the bottom of the letters—but the block-style spacing makes the Courier paragraph a bit more difficult to read.

To offset the difficulty of the monospace font, it became standard practice to use two spaces after each sentence in the days of typewriters. That means anyone who learned to type before word processing became mainstream likely learned to use two spaces. The same is true for anyone who was taught by someone who learned to type with a typewriter. You see the problem with this trend?

Automated Word Processing

Apart from select publishers who still prefer authors to submit their works using a monospace font, the need for two spaces after a sentence has all but vanished. The modern-day word processors are quite adept at compensating for different spaces between letters, words, and sentences. They automatically adjust according to the design of the font family. Guess what that means. ONE space after a period is correct. So for those of us who were lucky enough to learn one space after the period, we’re all set. However, for those who learned the two-space method, it proves a difficult habit to break. So what are some ways of combating it?

Tips for Ridding Yourself of the Two Spaces

1. Take advantage of the find and replace feature. Microsoft Word (and most other word processors) have this function, and it’s a great way to quickly eliminate all those extra spaces and even figure out how many you had. The only downside to this is that you might also need to check for triple spaces—I’ve seen it happen often enough—and fix those as well.
2. Practice. How do you break a bad habit? You practice replacing it with a good one. In this instance, you simply have to be consciously aware of how many times you’re hitting the space bar at the end of a sentence. It may be rather tedious at first, but it doesn’t take long for most people to make the adjustment. The more you use one space, the easier it becomes to stick with it.
3. Train your eyes to catch the extra space. Editors excel at this. It’s one of the reasons we can spot them from a mile away; we’ve trained our eyes to hone in on them!

The bottom line? Use word processing to your advantage. And triple-check the requirements of a publisher before submitting your work to them. Each will have their own style and guidelines. If you don’t follow them, you’ll likely get an automatic rejection.

The Editing Agenda: Adding Layers

Once you’ve finished your first draft and you’re ready to delve into the editing process, one of the first things you should tackle is adding layers. Layers make every great story come to life. They make a well-rounded character realistic, a plot and its details that much juicier, and they have a way of making the final pieces of the puzzle fall into place. And while there is definitely a time and a place for punctuation, grammar, and all things syntax, without layers, your story will always fall flat. So where should you start?

Plot

While there’s really no right or wrong answer to that question, the place I tend to start is overall plot. Take a look at your outline, timeline, storyboard, or whatever you have in the way of notes for your story, and review the major plot points. Don’t have an outline? I strongly suggest making one at this point. It will help you weed out any inconsistencies in your plot, and it will become increasingly crucial in tightening your story. Once you have a rough outline in place, ask yourself these questions:

1. Does the plot make sense?
2. Is there a clear beginning, middle, and end?
3. Does the first two-thirds of the book build tension and conflict?
4. Do the subplots make sense? Do they make sense on a timeline?
5. Are there any inconsistencies, particularly with placement and foreshadowing?

Those may seem like rudimentary questions, but if the answer to any one of these is no, you have some corrections to make before you begin adding in layers to the plot. As anyone who has ever attempted to write a book can tell you, a solid foundation is immensely important to a writing a successful book. Without it, your work will break down and eventually cave in on itself like a house of cards, leaving you both frustrated and discouraged.

After you’ve made any necessary revisions and can answer yes to all of those questions, it’s time to add more layers. For plots, this means adding additional subplots, minor conflicts that will build more tension along the way. But don’t add conflict in haphazardly. Each subplot that you add MUST contribute to the overall plot or character development. If it doesn’t, it’s fluff, and it doesn’t belong in your masterpiece-in-the-making.

Characters

When you’re done tackling the plot, it’s time to move on to characters. Again, it’s always a good idea to keep a catalog of all your characters and their bios. There are a lot of writing programs out there that can help you with this if, like me, you like to keep things organized electronically, but plain old index cards work just fine too. Whatever your method, keep your character notes handy. You’ll need this during the editing process both for fact-checking and for layering. If you need help with writing character bios, I highly recommend using scribbledwriting’s (Kayla Detton's) character analysis worksheet. It’s got just about every question you could ever imagine on it.

After you’ve gathered all your character notes, use your outline to go through your book piece by piece and find your weakest characters, the ones who should stand out but don’t, or the ones who just don’t seem realistic enough. Those are the ones you’ll want to focus on. Pull their character charts and pick a handful of dominant traits you know you want to use in the story or that should be focused on in the plot. Then ask yourself these questions:

1. What does this character want and why?
2. What sacrifices are they willing to make to get what they want?
3. What obstacles does this character have to overcome along the way?
4. Is this character successful, or do they fail?
5. How does this character change along the way?

By understanding what drives your characters and using their traits to affect their actions, you’ll be able to layer in scenes that reflect that and further develop them, making them more realistic to the reader. Dialogue is a great way to do this, and occasionally so are thoughts or backstory. But again, when you add in scenes, it’s important to keep only those that propel the plot or the character. Anything else would likely be seen an as info dump.

Environment and Worldbuilding

Next is environment and worldbuilding. This is my favorite part of the layering process, mostly because it gives the author a chance to really shine and bring to life the world they’ve created. Even if your story takes place in a real location, you still have to make the events of that location believable, and that’s where environment and worldbuilding come in.

The first step is to, yet again, dig up any notes you have about the world you’re dealing with. If it’s a real location, pull actual blueprints if you can find them, dig up articles about the kind of plants and trees that grow there, the weather, and the general atmosphere of that area and the surrounding ones. If your location is made-up, create a list of guidelines, rules, and/or any laws of physics that may come into play. Now it’s time for the questions:

1. Do the rules of this world make sense?
2. Are the rules consistent with each other and with the plot?
3. If a character breaks a rule, can it be justified in the plot?
4. Is the world easy to picture? Are there enough descriptions?
5. Does each location serve a purpose?

If you answered no to any of these, it’s time to go back and rework the environment, or perhaps the rules involving it. Consistency is by far the most important thing since it’s the thing readers will probably call you out on first. If you make a rule, stick to it. If you have a character that breaks it, it should be justified. And each location you mention in your story should absolutely serve some purpose in the overall plot. After all, you want to relay the events in your book that matter the most. Most readers don’t like consuming empty calories.

Once your answer is yes to all the questions, you get to my favorite part—the incredibly artistic part—of writing fiction. You can add layers by bringing in new vivid descriptions and extra details to areas that were previously lacking them. One of the best ways to do this is through the eyes of the characters, describing the environment and objects when they first come across them, slowly adding more detail bit by bit as the scene unfolds. This part of the layering process is a lot like painting a picture—probably another reason why it’s easily a favorite of mine. Just remember, there is a line with adding description that you don’t want to cross. Too much detail or wordiness will leave your world looking more like a toddler’s finger painting than a Picasso masterpiece.

Backstory and Final Touches

After you’ve made it through all the other stages of layering, you’re ready for the final step: finishing touches. This including weaving in a bit more backstory and any other last-minute details that help put the final pieces of the puzzle together. The best way to do this is to examine the story scene by scene (a storyboard comes in handy for this one), breaking it down into chunks. You can then add in any remaining details that you wish, but please do so sparingly, or you’ll be left with—yep, you guessed it—fluff. Too much frosting on a cake, and you can no longer taste the cake.