Friday, 15 August 2014

The Care and Feeding of Indexers

We indexers are a hardy species. We are almost all self-employed, which means we're good at working alone, and are self-motivated and organised. We work long hours when an indexing job comes in, including nights and weekends, to meet publishers' and authors' deadlines. We love our work.

But despite this hardiness, we do need some care. We are still human. We can't work miracles. The following list addresses frequent grievances, and ways you can look after your indexers better.

1. We need you now!

Don't contact us for a quote, and then expect us to be available that week. Many of us have work booked in advance, for months. We need advance notice.

An exasperated indexer
An exasperated indexer (me). We're pretty low key
2. It's going to be late ...

When you give us a deadline for the delivery of a manuscript, we book it in to our work calendars. We often have many projects coming in, one after the other, and we schedule them accordingly.

When you run late with delivery, it puts our whole work schedule out, and it affects other indexes, and other things we are committed to, not to mention our stress levels.

We understand that schedules slip on book projects — we see it all the time, and many of us build a bit of 'slip time' into our schedules. So if your manuscript is running late, pleeeease let us know right away, so we can juggle our other projects (where possible). Don't tell us on the day we're expecting the manuscript to arrive. It makes us stabby.

3. ... and we still need the index by the original deadline

Delivering a manuscript late, but expecting us to deliver by the original deadline, cutting days or weeks off our schedule, is unrealistic and unreasonable.

When we say an index will take us X number of days, we mean X days of full on intensive work. As an example, when I have an index coming in, I stock up the freezer with meals the week before, because I know I won't have the time or energy to shop or cook while I'm indexing. I eat at my desk. My family fends for itself (a frightening sight).

We can't suddenly compress that time, and produce a professional index in less time. Indexing is very mentally taxing, and we can't do a good job if we have to index 14 hours straight, for days at a time. Brains start leaking out of ears, which makes a disgusting mess, just for starters.

If your manuscript is late, ask us if we need extra time to complete the index, and work to squeeze in some flexibility into your publishing schedule — for instance, a submission time of 9 am Monday is not functionally different from 5 pm Friday in terms of office hours, but gives us many more work hours.

4. Hello? Hello? Is this thing on?

During the indexing process, we will undoubtably have questions for you. On things like name variations, how you want certain topics handled, whether something in the manuscript is a typo or not, and so on. Because we have to work fast, to meet your deadline, we also need to hear back from you quickly. If we have to chase emails, and resend questions, and bug you to get responses, it's just annoying for both parties, and wastes time.

And when we submit the final index to you for editing, and then the final files, please acknowledge receipt of the files. We don't like to assume that email is working, and that the files got through.

4. You want what?

Ah, the brief. What you expect, and how much you're prepared to pay for it. These are often unrealistic.
Money
Expecting a long detailed index for practically no money is just not going to happen. An index can take anywhere from 20 to 50 hours to write. Not joking. Sure, some books may be simpler, and their indexes can be produced quickly. But in general you're looking at at least a few thousand dollars for a professional index. 
Fast, Cheap, or Good
We are always happy to adjust what we produce to your budget — a simpler, less detailed index can be written more quickly, for instance. And some indexers will give discounts to self-publishers (something I do), or to non-profit organisations and so on. Be up front about what you can afford, and we'll work out how best to provide an index within your budget. But we are professionals, doing a very skilled task, and this attracts a professional rate of payment. 
Time
This comes under points 1 and 2 and 3 above ... but no, we can't produce a good index for a 350 page book in 3 days. Would you like some Unicorn Pie with that?

5. How many pages?

There's only so much index we can squeeze onto a page, with tiny text and double columns. Not having a reasonable number of pages set aside for the index is a constant issue for us. 'Culling' is a frequent task when editing an index.

An index in a 'general audience' book needs to be around 4% of the book length. An academic book requires up to 10–15% of the book.

So a general audience book that is 300 pages long needs at least 12 pp set aside for the index. An academic book of the same length needs more like 30–45 pages for the index. The more in-depth or "detailed" you want the index to be, the more pages it needs, and more time it takes to write.

Expecting us to write a detailed index for a 300 page book in only 4 pages is not only a disservice to the book, author, and readers, but a huge headache for us. We will have to leave out all sorts of information in the index, out of necessity.

In the planning stages of the book, please please PLEASE (bold caps — doesn't get more pleady than that) reserve a decent number of pages for the index. As a rough guide, you need 4% for a general book (4 pages of index for 100 pages of text), and around 10% for an academic title (10 pages of index for 100 pages of text).

6. Ch-ch-ch-changes

Edited index
Changes to the manuscript while we're indexing it are a nightmare, especially significant text changes. Adding several paragraphs, or deleting a figure, can cause shifts to where page breaks fall, and fixing this entails tedious editing of hundreds of index entries. (Whole page additions or deletions aren't so bad, as our software can make shifts to page ranges easily.)

We need to work from set-in-stone final manuscripts. Otherwise we might be forced to kill you charge you for extra work.

When we submit the final draft index to you for comments, that is not the time we want to hear things like "Oh, we want to treat all names like this ... with no first names, just initials." That's something we'd really rather be hearing at the start of indexing. We needn't have typed in all those names, and double checked their spelling. Editing them all out at the end is a waste of time, not to mention annoying.

A sample of ebook index code
Code for an ebook index, from ASI DTTF
Please let us know your standard forms for names of people and institutions, and anything else of import, and the way you want things done, when we get the manuscript. There are many different standards in indexing, and lots of ways of approaching things. Don't assume we know what you're thinking.

7. Just no.

Please don't give us lists of 'words to include in the index' (unless we specifically ask for them). For some indexers, this gets you black listed quick smart. We are professionals. We know what we're doing. And we know how to pick up topics and terms in a text.

8. Ebook indexes, don't they just get generated automatically?

No. Interactive ebook indexes are created quite differently from paper-based indexes. There is different software involved, just for starters, not to mention a different indexing process. So if you are single-sourcing to print and ebook, please talk to your indexer at the start of layout! We're all over that shit.

So, if you deliver your manuscript on time, give us enough pages for the index, and enough time to write it without being in a panic, are clear in your expectations and communication, are prompt with feedback, and trust us to do a professional job, we will love you forever! And if you give us a credit on the imprint page, and send us a copy of the book once it's published, we'll even wash your dishes.

Monday, 4 August 2014

Born Bad — a wicked index



Cover of 'Born Bad' by James BoyceThe latest book I've indexed is Born Bad, by James Boyce (Black Inc. Publishing). This is a fascinating book, tracing the history and impact of the idea of original sin, from its origin from St Augustine in the late 4th century, to the modern day. I highly recommend it!

There were several points to make decisions about in this index (well, every index is a constant process of decision making, to be honest).

Firstly were a bunch of medieval names, how are these treated? And the names of saints and popes?

With names such as Friedrich the Wise, I used direct order for the entry (ie written as is, 'Friedrich the Wise'), not inverted (Wise, Friedrich the), as 'Wise' isn't a surname. The same goes for names such as Julian of Norwich ... 'Norwich' isn't a surname, so he appears in the index under J for Julian.

With popes and saints, the way I treated these names (as there were a lot of them mentioned) was under their 'holy' names, with a gloss after the name. For example, Pope John XXII becomes John XXII (pope), in the index. And St. Francis of Assisi is indexed as Francis of Assisi (saint).

There is a lot of discussion in the book about the spiritual nature of babies, whether they are born sinful, or good. My favourite index entry, which highlights the absurdity of assuming that babies are evil, is vipers: less hateful than babies, 123  (I always try to include at least one or two cheeky entries in my indexes, if I can get away with it!)

(This points to a quote from Jonathan Edwards, the influential American Congregationalist cleric)

With entries from evil, sex and sexual desire, 'eaves children', and runaway nuns, to social media, guilt, free market and de Botton, Alain, I think many people will enjoy reading this book, and learning how the idea that we were 'born bad' has influenced the development of Western civilisation over the millennia. It makes me wonder what society would be like today if Western Christianity had decided, way back in the 5th century, that we were all born good?

Wednesday, 23 July 2014

Gemini 7043

Time for another Gemini analysis. This is for the Gemini cryptic #7043, which was published in The Canberra Times on 15 July 2014.

A usual, the definition part of the clue is underlined, except for double definition and cryptic definition clues.

ACROSS

Scrambled eggs
Photo By Great British Chefs Team via http://imagefinder.co/

1. Eggs it's nice to scramble (7) = INCITES
The definition is a nice confusion here — it's a verb, as in egging on someone, not a noun! Anagram indicated by scramble of it's nice. Ignore that apostrophe.

4. It's mean to the players (5) = MEZZO
Cryptic definition. MEZZO is a musical term meaning 'middle'. Mean is an average, or the middle. So MEZZO is a term that means 'middle' to musicians (players).

7. A stake in a buoyant economy (4) = ANTE
Hidden word clue, indicated by in. You can see it in buoyant economy.

8. On the edge and somewhat alarming (8) = MARGINAL
Anagram, indicated by somewhat, of alarming.

10. He draws actors into trouble (10) = CARTOONIST
Anagram clue. Actors into is the anagram fodder, trouble is the anagram indicator. The definition is pretty broad – a lot of other people draw too!

12. Mafia activity produces terrible row (6) = RACKET
Double definition. The two definitions are Mafia activity and terrible row (as in noise).

13. Reason to stop flying (6) = GROUND
Cryptic definition — the ground is definitely a good reason to stop flying!

15. Agree on a definition of 24 hours and finish work (4,2,1,3) = CALL IT A DAY
Double definition. The definitions are separated by and.

18. A collection of letters (8) = ALPHABET
Cryptic(ish) definition.

19. A mother for one who was motherless (4) = ADAM
Biblical cryptic definition. Refers to Eve being created from Adam's rib.

20. Not an irreversible belief (5) = TENET
Palindromic cryptic definition. Nice double negative in there —not an irreversible means that it is reversible! Could be &lit, I think ... as a TENET is a main principle, so I think it would be fair to say it's not an irreversible belief, as the definition. Reading the clue again literally provides the definition, in addition to reading it as wordplay.

21. Review on thug's weapon (7) = SHOTGUN
Anagram of on thug's, indicated by review.

DOWN


1. Is a short account for a patriarch (5) = ISAAC
Charade clue. Is a= IS A (in the clear!) + AC (short account). You need a little Biblical knowledge to get this one.

Photo By Dina Eric via http://imagefinder.co/
2. Producer of thick spray that reduces visibility (8) = CATARACT
Double definition — a cataract is a waterfall (which produces water spray), and an eye condition that reduces visibility.

3. Yields a chessman on board (6) = SPAWNS
Container clue. A chessman = PAWN is put on (inside) of SS (on board a ship).

4. One who is just sitting on a bench (10) = MAGISTRATE
Cryptic definition. Just means fair / objective here, and the bench refers to the law court.

5. Something final to any buffoon (4) = ZANY
Charade clue. Something final= Z (the final letter of the alphabet) + any(in the clear). A buffoon is a noun, and modern usage of ZANY is as an adjective. But there is a historical definition of zany meaning a zany person. So it's an unusual definition.

6. Did favours when compelled? (7) = OBLIGED
Double definition, with very similar definitions, so I think this is a poor clue. These two definitions come under the same headword and have the same etymology.

9. Very different from divorces in Warsaw? (5,5) = POLES APART
Double definition, with a coined meaning from divorces in Warsaw.

11. An animal looking for his master (5,3) = GUIDE DOG
Clever cryptic definition! Actual meaning is an animal seeing for his master.

12. Run into some of the defence (7) = RAMPART
Charade clue. Run into = RAM + some of = PART

14. Is inactive in retirement? (6) = SLEEPS
Cryptic definition. Retiring for the night, not retiring from work.

16. Potential enemy country (5) = YEMEN
Anagram of enemy, indicated by potential.

17. Twisted point to a witticism (4) = SPUN
A charade clue. Point = S (south) + a witticism = PUN.

Wednesday, 9 July 2014

The Guardian interview

Screen shot of The Guardian Crossword Blog

I'm very excited to announce my interview with Alan Connor, from The Guardian's Crossword blog. You may recall that I indexed Alan's book, Two Girls, One on Each Knee, last year

Alan raised the idea of interviewing me about my CrypticGuide app when I was writing his index — and it has finally come to fruition.

CrypticGuide is an app that my husband and I developed over a year — it is a 'slender' cryptic dictionary, with around 7,000 cryptic definitions, abbreviations, indicator words, and homophones. It also includes an anagram solver and wildcard search.

It is very much a work in progress, with new cryptic definitions being added to the app over time. If you come across any cryptic terms in your puzzle solving, which aren't in the app, please let me know, so we can include them in future releases!

CrypticGuide is available on the App Store. It works on iPhones, iPods, and iPads. Unfortunately, at the moment it is only available for iOS, as an Android version involves rewriting the entire app, from massive database up ... possibly a task for later on, once my pet code monkey husband has retired from his day job?

Saturday, 5 July 2014

Code talkers

Navaho code talkers

On 4th June this year, Chester Nez (93) died. He was the last of the Navaho code talkers.

In all the reading I've done on cryptography, codes, and ciphers, the story of the American Indian code talkers is my favourite.

Before we delve into their fascinating story, I need to be explain the difference between a code and a cipher.

Codes

A code is a mapping of a word, a short phrase, or even a whole sentence, to a single collection of symbols (words, numbers, or other symbols). They are almost impossible to break through analysis. However, unless it's a very brief code (which can be memorised), a code requires a codebook. There is simply no way to remember all of the substitutions accurately (unless you have a photographic memory!). The existence of this codebook is a security hazard, though. If the enemy gets a copy, you've had it.

Some examples of codes are:

@! = the contract has been signed
pancake = come at once, bring syrup
169 = the plan is proceeding as set
whittle = all is lost, flee!

Ciphers

A cipher operates on individual symbols. It is an algorithm, and once the algorithm has been set, there is no need for a codebook, which is definitely a plus. But they are more prone to being cracked.

The simplest ciphers are substitution ciphers. A=1, B=2, C=3, or even A=?, B=%, C=@. This sort of cipher is easy to crack using letter frequency analysis — the knowledge that in English, E is the most common letter, THE and AND and the most common 3-letter words, and so on. These ciphers are the base of most cryptogram puzzles.

More complex ciphers have been developed, naturally, with all sorts of horrendously complicated tricks and turns. There is a whole cryptography field, after all. But in essence, a cipher is potentially crackable.

Diagram of the SIGABA machine
SIGABA machine
The machine ciphers of the World War II were particularly difficult to crack, but with luck and the incredible skill of code breakers, it did happen. The German Enigma machines were just one type of many. The complex British Typex and American SIGABA cipher machines remained unbroken throughout the war.

Code talkers

Transmitting secure military messages during wartime, without the other side listening in, was (and still is) a major concern.

Native American languages were impenetrable to outsiders, as they had no Asian or European connections. This feature was turned into a 'codebook-free' code by the military. The invisible codebook resided in the Native Americans' native tongues. Code talking was pioneered by a handful of Cherokee and Choctaw Indians during WWI.

Many Indian tribes were recruited during both world wars — six tribal groups in WWI and 13 in WWII. The Navahos in WWII were by far the biggest group, with around 420 code talkers. The Navaho were preferred partially because no German students had infiltrated their culture after WWI, under the guise of studying their culture (as they had done with many other Indian tribes) – and therefore no outsiders had knowledge of their language.

The code talkers needed to memorise quite a lot of code words, but they would only need to memorise that A = Ant, Battleship = Whale, September = Half, and so on — because the hardest part, translating each of the code words into their native tongue, was second nature for them!

1942 letter about code talkers
Before trusting American military secrets to the Navaho code talkers, they were trialled through Navy Intelligence, to see if the top American code breakers could decipher any of the messages. They reported that the Navaho language was 'a weird succession of gutteral, nasal, tongue-twisting sounds ... we couldn't even transcribe it, much less crack it.' (The Code Book, Singh, pg 196) 

An alphabet was developed, from A for Ant in Navaho (WOL-LA-CHEE), to Z for Zinc (BESH-DO-TLIZ). There were up to three variations for the commonly used letters too — so Oil, Onion and Owl all encoded the letter O. This was instituted to stop the Japanese from being able to use frequency analysis if they realised some words were being spelt out. By cycling through variations on these common letters, any frequency analysis would be foiled.

Plenty of the words had direct translation into Navaho — so the English word 'dawn' was translated directly into the Navaho word for 'dawn' (HA-YELI-KAHN).  

However, many terms didn't have equivalences in Navaho. To save time in spelling each word out,  memorable phrases in Navaho were used instead:
Cemetery = among devils (JISH-CHA)
Tank destroyer = tortoise killer (CHAY-DA-GAHI-NAIL-TSAIDI)
Subordinate = helping each other (AL-KHI-NAL-DZL)
Farm = fox arm (MAI-BE-HE-AHGAN)
Dispatch = dog is patch (LA-CHAI-EN-SEIS-BE-JAY)

There were special names for all the various military craft and personnel.
Dive Bomber = Chicken Hawk (GINI)
Battleship = Whale (LO-TSO)
Colonel = Silver Eagle (ATSAH-BESH-LE-GAI)

And countries:
Japan = Slant Eye BEH-NA-ALI-TSOSIE
Australia = Rolled Hat (after the hats worn by our Diggers) (CHA-YES-DESI)

While their radio messages were intercepted by the enemy, they were never deciphered. A great rarity! "Lieutenant General Seizo Arisue, the Japanese chief of intelligence, admitted that, although they had broken the American Air Force code, they had failed to make any impact on the Navaho code." (The Code Book, Singh, pg 201)

You can see the full list of the code talker's dictionary here — information the Japanese and Germans would have literally killed for once upon a time! And this video is just one of many that tells more of their story:


There is a great discussion about Navaho code talkers in The Code Book by Simon Singh, if you want to discover more, and learn more about cryptography in general. There are also several books dedicated to the subject, including Chester Nez's personal account.


Wednesday, 2 July 2014

25 Worst Spelling Words

Oh, English. Why you so crazy?

handwriting corrected with red inkWell, largely because a lot of English isn't English. It's been nicked from pretty much any other language. There are no standard spelling rules. And some words come from people's names (eponyms) — for example, diesel is from Rudolf Diesel, who invented the diesel engine. What chance have we got?

For a lot of these hard words, French is the language of origin. French spelling, with a lot of letters that aren't pronounced, and profligate vowels, really trips us up badly.

I'm lucky in that I am a very 'visual' speller ... I spell easily, and can tell by looking at a word if it's misspelt. But the following words trip me up, almost always. And I'm sure I'm not alone!

Without further ado, here are my all time most hated least favourite words, that trip me up frequently. American spelling is in brackets.

Nastiest Spelling Words

  1. acquiesce
  2. aneurysm (aneurism)
  3. auxiliary
  4. bureaucracy
  5. likelihood
  6. chauvinism
  7. coercion
  8. dachshund
  9. desiccate
  10. diarrhoea (diarrhea)
  11. fluorescent
  12. fuchsia
  13. haemorrhage (hemorrhage)
  14. hors d'oeuvre
  15. idiosyncrasy
  16. jeopardise (jeopardize)
  17. likelihood
  18. masseuse
  19. minuscule
  20. paraphernalia
  21. plagiarise (plagiarize)
  22. prerogative
  23. reminiscent
  24. silhouette
  25. variegated
So anything I have to write about minuscule dachshunds with variegated fluorescent fuchsia hors d'oeuvres is just a nightmare, I tell you!


Spelling tips


If you want to learn these nastiest of spelling words, so you can impress your friends and family — and tear less hair out — then these tips may help.
  • Try to memorise them. Write the word down, repeatedly. Say it over and over in your head. Spell it out loud. Try for one word every day or two
  • Come up with a memorably silly or weird sentence as a mnemonic (another hard word!). As a teenager I remembered to spell unfortunately as 'un-for-tuna-tely', imagining a tuna fish watching TV (I bet it would love Jeremy Wade's shows). And I still use this mnemonic today.
  • Try pronouncing the word as written, which reminds you of its spelling — so dachshund could become 'da-ch-sh-und'. 
If you'd like even more tricky spelling words to practice, check out my article over on English Language Skills!