By David Mantey, Editor, PD&D
Well, those of you who know me – or at least had a chance to share a cold, post-show, wind-down beverage on the expense account with me — know that I’ve had greater, or more interesting, mistakes in my life.
My latest is eating me alive, that is, if a typo somehow transformed into some wily flesh-eating little devil.
That’s right; I’m the man who wrote the story about the car that tops out at 8.5 miles per hour and then I printed it. I remember the day. It was a couple weeks ago, so I don’t have to venture that far back into the gray matter. I wrote the e-mail to my associates, “The issue is done, final, absolutely complete, perfect, beautiful — and I couldn’t have done it without you.”
I received the confirmation e-mail, “The plates are ready to roll …” And just like that, PD&D was on its way to mailboxes around the nation. Now was the time for the post-issue celebratory desk cleansing, a few minutes out of my day that I dedicate solely to organizing the piles and relocating my original desk surface.
The piles consist of papers, magazines, press releases, etc. Nothing food-related, I’m not “that guy” in the office. I may not be tidy, but I strive to stay above gross. I tossed out the old press releases. Threw away the PowerPoint slides. Re-hung the calendar. Stacked up the CDs. Wiped the USBs.
Finally, after I’d reordered the many personal jokes I have clinging to my cube walls (some are hanging from cabinets), it was time to toss the proofs, the printouts that I meticulously combed through before I sent the issue to the printer.
I paged through this part of the process, making mental notes of things I’d like to tweak in the next issue. I passed the new products and before me lay the cover story. The one section readers jump to first. The two pages called out immediately after I pulled it from the mailbox. I smiled. It was a fun article to put together, and it hit me.
After writing it, I reread and edited it on four different passes and had it read by proofreaders. Yet there sat the glowing little deviant eyeballing me from a foot away, becoming progressively closer as my back hunched over until my forehead was pummeling the desk and knocking the Manure Manager magazine calendar (don’t ask) off of my walls.
How did we miss it? In the chart, of all places, a cut-and-paste error goes overlooked, and one of the most innovative ideas I’ve ever heard of tops out at 8.5 miles per hour instead of 85 mph. Instead of covering an up-and-coming innovation, I just shone the spotlight on a vehicle that would be outrun by a golf cart at a retirement resort.
Before the first issue was stapled and labeled, I think I received my first call from the guy boxing the issues at the printer. “Hey, why you writin' 'bout a car that only goes 8.5 miles per hour?”
I’m in the publishing business, so I’ve had some time honing my fake, uncomfortable laugh. It’s a mix between my father’s Clausian chuckle and a child with a mouth full of chocolate chip cookies. During my first call I let it roar and the subsequent feedback from readers has caused the abs to ache as they did back in 1998 – the last time I executed an ab crunch.
I was able to mend the chart on the Net, but not fast enough. I wanted the next issue to print immediately, so I could place the retraction as fast as possible. I nearly set my Outlook to automatically respond, “Yep, I saw it. The inflatable car’s top speed is 85 mph. Thank you for your time.” Print real estate smaller than a stamp had become the biggest mistake of my professional life. The internal cussing continues.
As you come up in an industry, you learn a few things. I learned that while “the business” does roll downhill, there is no reason you can’t pick it up and throw it right back. As an assistant or associate, I may have written the story, but it wasn’t my initials that signed off on the final pages. Problem was, this time my initials were on the page and “the business” was coming at me from every direction. Note to self: Position in the middle of the hill much more treacherous than the bottom.
Thanks for all of the feedback, I appreciate all of your close attention to detail. Cheers to those of you in the middle of the hill and below, at least those on the top have been in the business for some time so their arms are starting to go.
What’s your take? Post your comments below (or write me, call me, Tweet me, blog me, text me, fax me, send a smoke signal, put up a billboard on I-90/94, create a JibJab cartoon, post a video on YouTube, contact every person in the masthead and tell them to talk to me, write a song about it for my iPod, make an app for me, send me a certified letter via horseback …)