Proofing outputs

28 February 2010

As I explained the other day when describing typesetting outputs, the days when authors received their proofs on what looked like a giant toilet roll are long gone. Today, everything is output as PDF files, which then can be printed onto ordinary (A4 or US Letter) paper.

Some more traditionalist presses may still only deliver hard-copy proofs to their authors. Increasingly, however, the actual PDFs are being sent. For authors, it is with the latter that a big revolution has occurred in recent years – with the development of these ‘soft’ PDF proofs. These can be read by anyone, using any type of computer, with the free Adobe Reader program. Editing of a PDF file is another matter; this is also possible but only with the full (paid-for) Acrobat program.

Initially, the limitations of Adobe Reader meant that authors could only print off the proofs and mark up any changes on the hard copy. These would then be faxed or mailed back to the publisher. Nowadays, however, it is possible to annotate PDF files without having to own a copy of the full Acrobat program; even in Adobe Reader, one can now highlight text and add yellow ‘sticky’ notes, for instance. Such annotated PFDs can simply be emailed back to the press.

Some authors can get far more creative than this. For instance, the prototype of Robert Cribb’s Digital Atlas of Indonesian History (finally delivered to the printer last week, hence my long silence this past fortnight) was created in InDesign and output as PDFs for the author to respond to. This he did by bringing the PDFs into CorelDraw and annotating them there, returning his feedback as JPEG files.

Adobe now also allows publishers (and anyone else with the full Acrobat program) to create special PDF proofs. These can be edited by their recipients, even if all that they are using is Adobe Reader. At NIAS Press, however, we have not adopted this proofing feature. Personally, we don’t think that editing a PDF file gives good results or indeed is a good idea; better simply to annotate the PDF file, do the editing in the actual typesetting documents, and then output new, ‘clean’ PDFs.

As you can see, there are several ways to proof your book. I pick up on this later in the week with fuller details on making your proof corrections.

But whichever method you adopt – working with paper or PDF – it sure beats the hell out of using toilet paper!

(Post #4 of the Proofing section of a lengthy series on the book production process, the first post of which is here.)


Who proofs

27 February 2010

I believe that my last post established the need to proof your book. The question is, who should be put to do this tedious work? You. Sorry, but that’s how it is. Your involvement is unavoidable.

The buck stops here

Whether or not your publisher proofs your book (and my guess is that most do, sometimes by employing an outside professional proof-reader), the ultimate responsibility for checking the proofs lies with you. Subsequent book reviewers may sniff at the failure of the publisher to properly edit your book, but you will be blamed for making the original error.

Likewise, the typesetter keeps an eye open for the conversion errors discussed in my last post but ultimately it will be your responsibility at the proofing stage to pick up any such problems.

Why? To be sure, there is the wider issue of whose work is this (an issue I should have addressed under editing and will get back to). But ultimately it is your book that is being published. You own it, you too are responsible for its success. And, as such, in the words of Harry Truman, ‘The buck stops here’.

Avoiding humiliation

A sense of personal ownership and responsibility may not be the only motivation, of course. A powerful – and personal – reason for authors wanting their books properly proofed before printing is to avoid later embarrassment (not to say humiliation).

All of us will have suffered the temporary humiliation of discovering we have spent the whole evening at some public event with our trouser buttons undone, a breadcrumb dangling under our nose, whatever. But longer lasting, even more public humiliations are waiting in ambush, promising ever after to haunt you. The most damaging of these for an academic author can be the book review.

Seriously, would you want a review of your book to conclude on this note?

Correspondingly, editing seems to have played almost no role in the production of this book. Countless grammatical mistakes and other errors mar the text. Important and commonly used words are misspelled, such as ‘dominos’ [sic] (p. 117).  There are also numerous small errors of fact and usage – sometimes the author mistakenly refers to Walter W. Rostow (pp. 5, 8, 129), and at other times, correctly, to Walt W. Rostow (p. 121); in one paragraph (p. 12) the author refers correctly to “the Tengku,” meaning Abdul Rahman, but a few lines later, confusingly, to “the Tungku” (a “tungku” is a trivet or brazier). These errors aside, the author has identified a topic of genuine importance, and his new book will no doubt stimulate much additional scholarship.

Mind you, the above review may not be fair; this may be yet another carping book review for which there is a long tradition in the academies. I have no idea in this case. Fair or not, such a public drubbing is not exactly a great career booster (or a good way to start the week).

(I should add that one review of our own book wasn’t much better. Again, the chief complaint was that the proofing wasn’t up to scratch.)

Not your business

One set of proofs you need not concern yourself – the printer’s proofs. These are output during the printing stage and are not something that authors tend to be involved in. (That said, there are some types of book – art books, for instance – where it might be appropriate for authors to be consulted.) More about these proofs later.

But otherwise

However, what I am discussing now is your involvement in the typesetting or author’s proofs, the so-called first and final proofs. These are another matter.

Here, at this stage, not to proof your book would be a criminally stupid waste of all the hours you have put into its creation. More to the point – as you will find out the longer you are involved in publishing your research – publishers know their stuff but it is always you, the author, who knows your stuff. Look after it.

(Post #3 of the Proofing section of a lengthy series on the book production process, the first post of which is here.)


Why proof your book?

26 February 2010

OK, so the typesetter has delivered the first proofs of your book and the production editor has forwarded a copy on to you.

What to do with these proofs?
How about use them to proof your book.
Fine, you may think, a good idea to check that no photo is upside down, that sort of stuff.
Ah, but no photos are to be inserted until after this proof.
So you wonder perhaps, what more is there to be done?
Sorry, let me repeat myself. I suggest that you should use these proofs for what they are intended, to proof (as in P-R-O-O-F) your book, to check the entire volume, word by word.
Really, is that necessary?

The checking has already been done

It is not as if yours is a raw text received back from the typesetter. During the writing and editing phases, it has been subjected to quite a lot of scrutiny.

To be sure, at the beginning you might have been naive, thinking that – in these days of spell-checkers – it was no longer necessary to hire someone to check your spelling. Then you discovered that spell-checkers are not exactly intelligent; nothing was flagged when you wrote ‘though’ instead of ‘thought’.

But by now your text has been edited by real people, too – perhaps more than once (at times it seems to have been crawling with editors) – and frankly you are sick of the whole process. Even the typesetter has got into the act, pointing out that the dramatic reconstruction of events used to spice the beginning of your book is wrong; the historical character who is central to your study was actually left-handed (a minor blemish in your text that no-one else picked up but somewhat embarrassing).

So, why waste more time proofing the typeset text? Why indeed.

New errors

The problem is that there is a world of difference between a word processor like Microsoft Word (which it’s likely you have used) and a typesetting program like Adobe InDesign used to set your book. Much of this difference is positive; your text will look better as a result of the typesetting. The downside, however, is that the two types of software are different and that your text must be converted from one format to another. In this process there can occur conversion errors, as I have mentioned earlier.

At NIAS Press last year we were hit by a particularly tricky conversion error. This caused by a software glitch in InDesign that thankfully was soon fixed by Adobe. When imported into InDesign, certain character combinations in the text (say, ‘ts’ – I cannot remember the actual ones) were converted to a full stop. When setting a particular page, our typesetter noticed a sentence ending with two full stops. She deleted the second then noticed that the end word was misspelt.

This too she corrected but thankfully had the presence of mind to search for further instances of a double full stop. There were more, quite a few more. And when she discovered that each of these involved a misspelt word and, worse, she found a full stop in the middle of a misspelt word, she knew that we had a serious problem. The result was an extra careful proofing required of both press and author.

Ultimately, however, it is irrelevant if the errors in your text are old or new. The point is that they may be there and (if so) they need to be found; someone must proof-read your book. The big question is, who?

(Post #2 of the Proofing section of a lengthy series on the book production process, the first post of which is here.)


Tedious work

19 February 2010

If writing a book is hard work, at least it is your work, your words. Editing and typesetting have their attractions; it need not be humiliating but in fact can be a revelation to see a wordsmith at work, cutting and polishing your text, while it should be interesting to see how your text can be transformed from ordinary words on paper into something extra, a visual experience.

But proofing? In a word, tedious.

Tedious though it might seem, proofing is unavoidable so let’s get moving. (Or is it unavoidable? Something to consider, as you will see in an upcoming post.)

In an earlier post, I outlined a common sequence of phases in the typesetting and proofing of a book. These were:

  • Initial typesetting
  • Output of first proofs
  • First proofing
  • Completion of typesetting
  • Output of second (often the ‘final’) proofs
  • Second (or ‘final’) proofing and indexing
  • Output of print-ready copy
  • Final-copy check

The typesetting part of this sequence has been described already. Indexing will be treated separately in a thread of posts following this section on proofing. And, as for the final two steps above dealing with the print-ready copy, these will be picked up in the section on printing your book.

In the meantime, however, we shall follow a thread of posts on the proofing process. Here, I shall look more closely at the first and second proofs as well as issues related to them.

Tedious? Not necessarily.

(Post #1 of the Proofing section of a lengthy series on the book production process, the first post of which is here.)


Finalizing the cover

16 February 2010

Ask any young woman and she will tell you it’s not her brain that counts with ‘real’ men but her body. So says the cliche, but there is an uncomfortably big grain of truth in this observation.


.

Content matters

Although content ultimately matters – you are unlikely to buy those cornflakes again if they taste lousy – initially, all too often the wrapping counts a lot.

So it is with book covers, as we have discussed earlier. Surface appearances, fripperies.

It is perhaps fitting, then, that this long thread of posts on the design and typesetting process ends on a(n almost) frivolous note. Most posts in this section have dealt with the layout of your text and illustrations – the contents, the serious stuff that your readers are waiting for. And yet, when it comes to the production of your book, chances are that you – like most authors – will show little interest in the page layout but keen interest in every aspect of the cover design.

Time, then, to finalize this surface matter. Unfortunately, all too often, the issues raised are not frivolous ones.

A simple matter

In the best of times, the process of producing a cover is straightforward enough for the cover designer (or typesetter) to finalize. S/he has the cover design and, within this framework, it should be a simple matter to arrange the various cover elements – title, author name(s), illustration, blurb, publisher logo, bar code, etc.

Long time coming

Straightforward enough, indeed. The problem is that covers are not always produced in the best of times. Or, rather, that they are produced in all times. This is a job started early in the production process – if not right at the beginning, right when the book is first announced – and yet it is one of the last things to be finalized before printing.

In between, there is ample scope for things to go wrong. Here are a few of the issues that can arise:

  • The cover illustration is unusable. This can easily happen if only a thumbnail cover image was produced at the design stage and the low-resolution illustration supplied by the author was good enough for that but not for the real cover. The catalogue, for instance, may only need a cover image that is about 33 x 50 mm whereas more likely the final cover will be 152 x 228 mm (6″ x 9″) in size.
  • There is a disconnect between cover and contents. A schism between the cover and page design is not really acceptable (e.g., elaborate, ornate script on the outside with severe, clinical type inside) but it happens, and it need not matter. More problematic is if (say) the author’s name is written one way on the cover, another way inside. Or (heaven forbid) misspelt. Likewise, if one of the editors drops out and the cover designer isn’t informed.
  • The spine width is wrong. Another disconnect. The final extent of the book determines the spine width. If the total number of pages change, then the spine width needs adjusting (no problem – just needs to be communicated).
  • The cover illustration isn’t credited. Another disconnect. A cover photo credit perhaps should always go on the cover but this isn’t always possible or appropriate. But if the credit then fails to appear inside (in the list of illustrations) then there may be an unhappy copyright holder to deal with long after the book has been printed.
  • The back-cover text is too long or too short. The blurb written for the catalogue will probably be shorter than that on the back cover. Indeed, new text should really be written but it can easily happen that the catalogue text is recycled. Also, there may be an endorsement to be added (but which hasn’t yet been received from the fine folk in Editorial).
  • The author hates the cover. The cover image used in the catalogue wasn’t to the author’s taste but s/he was pacified with the assurance “Don’t worry, we’ll do something better later”. Later has now arrived and the author is still unhappy.

No, not simple matters at all, and hardly frivolous.

Outputs

Once upon a time, covers were designed and created on huge pasteboards. No more. Everything is digital, everything delivered as a PDF file – in other words, in the same way as the inside pages of the book. Among other advantages, this allows authors to participate in the cover proofing process (if allowed by their publisher). But more about that later.

And that is the design and typesetting section finished. Next post, I move on to the proofing stage.

(Post #22 of the Design & Typesetting section of a lengthy series on the book production process, the first post of which is here.)


Typesetting phases and outputs

12 February 2010

For the last two weeks, I have been blithely discussing what typesetting is and the issues relating to it but without actually describing what is produced. Time for a short overview before we move on a new thread of posts, on the proofing process.

A duet

Typesetting is not a single event in the production of the book pages; rather, it is a multi-phased process and one interwoven with that for the proofing of the book. In a sense, one could look at typesetting and proofing as a duet sung by a tenor and soprano.

Their ‘performance’ looks somewhat like this (but note that approaches do vary between presses):

  • Initial typesetting
  • Output of first proofs
  • First proofing
  • Completion of typesetting
  • Output of second (often the ‘final’) proofs
  • Second (or ‘final’) proofing and indexing
  • Output of print-ready copy
  • Final-copy check
  • Delivery of print files to the printer

Let’s look at the initial typesetting, its completion and briefly at how the proofs are output. More detailed descriptions of each of the proofing phases shall follow in my next thread of posts on proofing.

In addition, also required (and not mentioned above) is typesetting of the cover/jacket (more about that in my next post).

Initial typesetting

Practices differ between typesetters and another major factor is which typesetting software is used. However, likely steps are as follows:

  1. Finalization of the page design (as discussed here).
  2. Creation of typesetting documents meeting the design specification.
  3. Conversion of those input files not conforming to the page design/software requirements (e.g. image files changed from colour to monochrome and from JPEG to TIFF format).
  4. Marking up of text files with consistent paragraph styles that match those defined in the destination typesetting documents.
  5. Import and placing of text files in the typesetting documents.
  6. Assignment of paragraph and character styles to the text and any tables (or, if already done at step #4, then fine-tuning of styles).
  7. Import and placing of any image files in the typesetting documents (often this step is left until completion of typesetting).
  8. Generation of first proofs.

Proofing output

Not too many years ago, when typesetting was done on specialist machines, the initial proofs were output in galley form, i.e. as continuous text without any page breaks marked and printed out on what looked like giant-sized toilet paper. As the layout was finalized, the book would be paginated, subsequent proofs clearly showing the page breaks. These proofs, too, could be printed on long galleys or guillotined into their individual pages.

The output of today’s PC-based desktop publishing systems is utterly different, being based on the industry-standard PDF format (though other output formats are possible). Galleys are gone; everything is either printed on ordinary (A4 or US Letter) paper or output as PDFs. Moreover, there is little difference in the appearance of (say) the initial set of proofs and the final print files sent to the printer (not least, all proofs are paginated).

The shift to PDFs has been a revolutionary development for authors. This, however, is something I shall take up next week in a new section of posts detailing the proofing and indexing process. Proofing outputs are discussed in greater detail here.

Completion of typesetting

Just what is needed to be done to complete the typesetting process depends of course on if step 7 above was done during the initial typesetting or has been left until now. If the latter is true, then likely steps are as follows:

  1. Keying of any text changes from the first proofing.
  2. Import and placing of any image files in the typesetting documents.
  3. Re-evaluation of the likely extent of the book including space for the index (not yet prepared, of course).
  4. Possible adjustment of the page design (especially of the font size and line spacing) to meet the final extent set by the production editor.
  5. Pagination of the book (including subtle adjustments to line spacing, to the placement and size of tables and illustrations, etc. to save on – or add – a few lines here and there so that the target page count is indeed reached); the ideal is that each double-page spread has even page bottoms, its composition is evenly balanced and the overall effect is aesthetically pleasing.
  6. Finalization of any page-specific cross-references.
  7. Generation of second (often ‘final’) proofs.

After the return of any changes resulting from the final proofing and delivery of the index, typesetting concludes as follows:

  1. Keying of any text changes from the final proofing.
  2. Typesetting of the index.
  3. Generation of print-ready copy for checking/approval by press staff.
  4. Delivery of print files to the printer.

Time then (almost) to move on to the proofing and indexing of your book but first let’s return to your cover and its finalization.

(Post #21 of the Design & Typesetting section of a lengthy series on the book production process, the first post of which is here.)


Letting go

11 February 2010

Letting go is not easy, whether you are a parent or an author (or both). This is quite understandable. While it is human to hold tight to (and be protective of) your children, the critical (and often treacherous) nature of the academic world teaches us to be equally guarded with our research results. Fear turns many a scholar into a serial polisher of his text, forever hesitating to expose it to possible ridicule or theft.

Ultimately, however, you have to let go. No child can grow and thrive if still clamped in their parent’s embrace, nor a scholarly work shine if hidden in a dark, lonely drawer.

Separation may be a lengthy business. And the angst begins early, already during the writing process. For many authors, the hardest stage here is to

  • actually finish the manuscript
  • place the last full stop
  • recognize that this is as good as it is going to get and that any more fiddling about with the text will add only time without contributing quality
  • let go and send your final words out into the world to stand or fall on their own merits.

That can be very difficult indeed.

The ripping feeling intensifies during editing. This, you are told, is your last chance to make sure that the text is just as you want it. From this point onwards, any changes to your text will be met with the greatest reluctance by your editor. Slowly but irrevocably, the book – your baby – is slipping beyond your grasp.

It is at typesetting, however, that the separation becomes irrevocable. As noted earlier, it is at this stage that your material is converted to other formats. Text and image files are placed in the typesetting ‘container’; essentially, there is no longer any live link between these files and the text and images found in the typeset book. As such, any changes to (say) your original Word files and JPEG images are pointless. All changes to the book’s text or illustrations can only be made by the typesetter.

And, as we shall see in a forthcoming post on proofing, chances are that the typesetter will be reluctant to make ‘unnecessary’ changes without an extra (penalty) payment.

Time to let go, indeed.

(Post #20 of the Design & Typesetting section of a lengthy series on the book production process, the first post of which is here.)