Wrong words. Misplaced words. Misspelled words. Incorrect punctuation. Faulty capitalization. Incomplete thoughts.

When it comes to ad copy gone wrong, this ad’s headline is just the proverbial tip of the iceberg — how many mistakes do you see? Photo courtesy of Flickr user Sylvar.

Proofreaders and editors are paid to find these issues and remedy them. Especially in advertising, using correct grammar can mean the life or death of a product or service.

Life or death? Yes, indeed. Think about it this way: Everyone makes mistakes, yes? Yes. You trust those who make fewer, perhaps less obvious — definitely less life-threatening — mistakes than those who make gaffe after embarrassing gaffe, yes? Yes. And it appears that those who make fewer mistakes seem to have their act together pretty well, or at least more so than their fumbling counterparts, yes? Yes.

Appearance means a lot, especially in the ad world.

If you put out for public consideration an advertisement that has improper grammar of some sort, it implies a few unsavory things:

• You don’t know any better (poor, unfortunate sod).
• You are sloppy with your work (if you are careless with advertising your wares or service, you very well may be careless with your wares and service, as well).
• You don’t have a strong support system or staff (surely someone would have brought the ad goof to your attention before it was too late).
• You don’t have your act together (you must be shabby at time management; otherwise, you would have found the time to read your ad copy and find the mistake).

Perhaps none of the above points are correct; perhaps you’re the most conscientious seller of your particular product or service in the whole, wide world. Perhaps a lot of people won’t even notice the problem — but perhaps a lot of people will. And your ad doesn’t show your persnickety attention to detail. Your ad shows a mistake, and the potential damage to your reputation is out there for the whole, wide world to see.

If you’re lucky, yours is a digital mistake that can quickly be fixed, with hopefully minimal negative repercussions. If you’ve a printed mistake on your hands, an ad reprint is about all you can do to fix the grammar gaffe — assuming you find it yourself or someone takes pity on you and points it out as a friendly gesture.

In advertising and marketing, companies and individuals alike rush through ads, direct mailers and brochures in order to meet a deadline. They either skip the proofreading completely or they trust that someone else will catch any unfavorable copy. Or perhaps they proof the early versions of copy and forget to have it looked at right before it heads to print. That is the exact time when many mistakes occur and when proofreading, perhaps, counts the most.

One set of eyes is OK in editing but, really, two — or more — are much, much better. And if you’re trusting writers to proof their own work, you’re in for disappointment, as most writers are not the best proofreaders around. Writers, too, have difficulty proofing what they’ve written because they expect to see it correctly — as it is in their heads. And even the most capable proofreaders are, believe it or not, human. Thus, they make mistakes. It’s tough to be 100 percent right 100 percent of the time, yes? Yes.

Checks and balances, friends. That’s what it takes to get solid, grammatically correct (and understandable) copy out there for the public eye.

If you have to tell them, you don’t have them

I recently found an oldish article by Steve McKee on Bloomberg BusinessWeek about five words that really shouldn’t be used in advertising: quality, value, service, caring and integrity. Written in ’06, this article still rings true today.

Let’s briefly examine each word and see what the hullabaloo is all about.

Picture courtesy of Flickr user Mykl Roventine

Quality

McKee points out that every product being advertised has some version of quality. His article mentions high-priced items, such as a Lexus with its handcrafted finishes or über-smooth ride, versus low-priced quality, such as the Hyundai extended warranty plan. Both products offer quality of some sort. The perceived quality is a bit subjective because one person may be interested in plush seats while the next buyer only cares about not having to pay for service in three years instead of seven.

Then there’s the issue of high-quality products versus low-quality junk. And really, no one’s going to advertise that they sell low-quality junk, are they? So telling the targeted audience that your stuff is high-quality stuff isn’t what’s going to get them to buy. Detailing what the high-quality stuff is — made with Italian wool, heat-resistant up to 1800 degrees Fahrenheit, able to leap 80-story buildings while putting a four-course meal on your table — will get them interested.

Value

I know of at least one company that puts the word “value” on just about every piece of literature about their products and services. Is that truly effective? Doubtful.

Who decides whether something is valuable or not, the seller or the buyer? One or more buyers may have told the seller that the offered product or service is, indeed, a good value. But it’s ultimately up to each buyer to decide the innate value of what’s offered. And what is a terrific value for one person may not ring true for the next. Don’t bother telling them you offer exceptional value; tell them, rather, what that exceptional value is, and then back it up by providing it.

Service

Advertising that promises great service is just that: a promise. Saying that the customer will get great service — or better service than what they’ll get from the competition — is not a great selling point because unless and until they experience otherwise, customers assume that you will treat them fairly, promptly and courteously. And if it’s in the advertisement that the customer will receive top-notch service, it’ll be that much easier for the customer to find something to complain about. (“Your ad said top-notch; you call this top-notch? Who you kidding?”)

When it comes to service (and, really, everything else on this list), perhaps the smartest advertising move is to underpromise and overdeliver.

Caring

This one is touchy. Or maybe just touchy-feely. Saying that you care about your customers is akin to saying that you offer great service — it’s expected of any decent company. It’s a bit like asking someone to trust you. And if you’re anything like me, you don’t trust anyone who says, “Trust me.” If you do trust those who ask for your trust, perhaps you also believe those who pepper their phrases with “actually,” “to tell you the truth,” “in fact” and “for real.” Why are those phrases necessary? They simply imply that what’s just been said is, indeed, true. Does that mean that all that came before is either flat-out wrong or should be questioned?

Don’t tell them that you’re telling them the truth; just tell them the truth. Don’t tell your customers how deeply you care about them; just care about them. Your actions speak much, much louder than that four-letter word.

Integrity

Integrity doesn’t rely on the customer to decide whether you have it or you don’t. You either do or you don’t. No gray area here.

Are you honest in all of your business dealings? Great — you’re full of integrity and it shows. Your customers will sing your praises all over Facebook and Twitter, not to mention through the telephone and during casual bump-ins with friends.

Do you dabble in shady deals and half-truths? Your ticket’s numbered and you know it.

A final note

As McKee points out, “what you think about your company doesn’t matter.” You can tell your potential customers how caring you are and how fantastic your service is until your pen runs dry, but what counts is their opinions. Tell them the benefits of your product or service. Share with them the results of those who have tried what you sell. Give them hard numbers, honest facts, real quotes from real people. Offer them a fair price for what you sell. And choose your advertising words carefully, putting yourself in your customers’ shoes. Would you believe what you write? If so, go for it.

If you have them, you don’t have to tell them.

One of the most-argued points in the history of grammar (perhaps that’s embellished just a tad) is the serial comma. A little-known fact about the serial comma is that it goes by several names:

• Serial comma
• Oxford comma
• Harvard comma

The serial comma (the most generic of the three names) is also known as the Oxford comma because it is in the Oxford University Press style guide and has been for more than 100 years. Writers who are less taken with the grammatical

Ham and eggs with a lovely garnish

influences of the Brits but who approve of the higher-brow tendencies choose to call the serial comma the Harvard comma. What about those lucky folks who went to The University of Kansas? The Jayhawk comma has a nice ring to it. How about the WuShock? Or the Wildcat comma? Do you see where all this naming madness could lead?

So — back to the topic at hand. The serial-Oxford-Harvard comma follows the penultimate word or group of words in a series. Check out these two sentences:

1. I had orange juice, hash browns, and ham and eggs this morning.
2. I had orange juice, hash browns and ham and eggs this morning.

The first sentence includes the serial comma, which groups ham and eggs as an integral item (which, in the United States anyway, it usually is) instead of two separate entries.

The second sentence does not include the serial comma, making the sentence look like it got out of the wrong side of the bed. Even though the AP Stylebook prefers no serial comma, it includes an exception for the inevitable black-sheep sentence — you know, the one with an integral element of the series requiring a conjunction (i.e., and).

For those who were raised under the iron fist of the MLA and who grew accustomed to including the serial comma, it may take you a short while to get used to its eradication (except in particular situations as noted above).

Should the serial comma be reinstated? If that happens, we’ll all still live in a non-black-and-white world, because as you are painfully aware, there’s always, always an exception to a rule, and the serial comma rule-breaker is no exception.

It’s true. Peruse these two sentences:

1. You almost ran over an electrician, Shad Zoober, and Tony Purpleface.
2. You almost ran over an electrician, Shad Zoober and Tony Purpleface.

In the first sentence: Did you almost run over two people (Shad Zoober + Tony) or three people (an electrician + Shad + Tony)?

In the second sentence, it seems fairly clear that you ran over three people. So the first sentence solidifies the point that a serial comma (in No. 1) doesn’t always clear up the meaning, whereas a lack of one does (or may). Lots of gray here, people.

So there the serial comma stands — clear as a rainy, foggy and gray day. After all this, if you still can’t figure it out, here’s a final suggestion: Rewrite!

Who doesn’t love the AP Stylebook?

An empty soundstage: Is there anybody out there? (Photo courtesy of Flickr user juliejordanscott)

Wait — don’t answer that. As a borderline OCD writer-editor-proofreader-blogger, I am over the moon in awe of the journalist/advertising bible. It’s absolutely true that a few of its rules drive the hoards of creative types wild — especially when I’m the messenger — yet I love it all the more.

The AP Stylebook lays down the grammatical and editorial laws that allow creativity to flow between and bounce off of those same laws. How else would all of the rogue writers out there prove their anti-establishmentarian tendencies if there were no establishment to mock? Editors are familiar with these rogues — make no mistake. Editors and writers sometimes have a tumultuous relationship. But the good ones (and there are a lot of good ones) marry the rules with the creativity, producing something truly spectacular and correct, all at the same time.

My 2011 AP Stylebook has not led me astray so far — even though it still wants me to put a period at the end of each bulleted sentence or phrase, no matter how unnecessary it may be — insanity.

So what else did the latest edition the AP Stylebook suggest? Here’s a short list of groups of words (two words or hyphenated words) that are now one word:

Cellphone

Checkout

Geolocation

Email (only an uppercase “E” if it starts a sentence)

Filmgoer

Firsthand

Handheld (noun)

Nonprofit

Postgame

Pregame

Serviceman, servicewoman (but still service member)

Smartphone

Soundstage

Tipoff

Unfollow

Videotape

If you’re at all into grammar or language, you’ve probably already heard that the hyphenated “e-mail” fought the good fight but ended up in the word graveyard. That one change alone made a whole host people very happy, indeed. The other words, such as filmgoer and handheld — didn’t cause as much of a stink, but here they are. Use them in good health.

Writing headlines can cause even the most seasoned writer high anxiety.

The job of the headline is to concisely sum up the article in such a manner as to stimulate interest in the accompanying article or story. But writers know that the hardest thing to write is often the thing that requires the least amount of words. Compare it to telling a story versus telling a joke; many folks can tell a story halfway well but can’t tell a joke to save a drowning kitten.

Not exactly sure why this needed quotes at all (photo: http://www.flickr.com/photos/xurble/59305536/)

Advertising executive extraordinaire David Ogilvy noted, “On the average, five times as many people read the headline as read the body copy. When you have written your headline, you have spent 80 cents out of your dollar.” Ain’t that the truth? The headline is the baited hook. The headline draws readers’ interest in enough to encourage them to go on and read the article. In these times of rapid-fire communications and über-multitasking, that’s some feat.

But “How to write the ideal headline” isn’t the title of this entry. And that speech belongs to someone else. So — what is this entry about? Quotation marks in headlines! And it’s really a simple thing:

If you must use quotation marks in headlines, use single quotation marks. Captions (i.e., cutlines) follow the same M.O. as body copy.

Many moons ago, when typesetters had to manually set type, space was golden. Now, space is still golden, but a myriad of fonts and new-fangled software programs help typesetters (or designers or graphic artists) mess with the kerning and leading and such in order to maximize what little space there is. There still isn’t much room to fiddle with, but at least it can be fiddled with, whereas it wasn’t an option not long ago.

Highfalutin double quotation marks are appropriate for quotes in articles, stories, blogs and captions — just not for the headline.

Check out this example headline from The Washington Post:

Iran warns that it will deal ‘fiercely’ with protesters.

Makes sense, yes? While the single quotation marks may look a bit odd at first, they do grow on you. And here’s a fun little factoid: Many people don’t like to use quotations in headlines. Many, too, have done research that shows headline quotes as increasing readership and sales; the same research also shows that quotes in a subhead, rather than a headline, increase readership and sales even more.

Funny what you learn when you read more than just a headline, huh?

“Live in the now!” That’s one of Garth’s many quotes from “Wayne’s World” that has managed to survive — nay, thrive — for nearly 20 years since the movie’s release. It is also an appropriate concept to apply to the short line of copy that typically lingers below an article’s photograph: the caption, or cutline. For those who follow the AP Stylebook to the T, you may prefer to use the term “caption.” No matter what you call that line, though, it tells the reader the who, what, when, where, why and how of the picture.

Consider this: Captions are read more often than the articles they accompany, second only to headlines. What do you tend to read? If you’re like most people, you check out the headlines and captions to determine whether you want to spend your time delving into the entire article. (Read an entire article? The horror.) Although many captions are only one sentence, a second sentence in the caption is completely acceptable, and it may be written in either the present or past tense. The first sentence, however, should almost always be written in the present tense.

To ponder:

• Why must the first sentence of a caption be in the present tense? Since the photo captures a specific moment in time, the present tense gives a feeling of immediacy that makes what happened in the photo seem more relevant than if it happened several days, weeks or months ago. Using the past tense may stir up the feeling of receiving old news. And who wants old news? Not most readers.
  

  A beagle allows a kitten to snuggle in Curitiba, Brazil, on Jan. 21, 2007. The dog provided comfort and shelter for its tiny companion, who had become separated from its mother during the previous night’s storm. (photo: http://www.flickr.com/photos/cmatsuoka/2582269821/)

• What rare situations would require a cutline to employ the past tense? Well, that’s a tough one. The AP Stylebook website and style guide don’t refer to the past tense concerning that first sentence. One guess is that the AP Stylebook is not referencing the first sentence in a cutline, but the second. It’s apparently OK to write the second sentence in either present tense or past tense, depending on the publication’s or client’s preference. Weird, weird stuff.

So — if you have AP Stylebook-documented proof of a reason to use the past tense in a caption or cutline in the first sentence of a caption or cutline, please send it our way.

This caption, while not 100 percent factual, for the purpose of this entry gives all the pertinent information required of a cutline — who, what, when, where and why.

Your caption, of course, will be on the up-and-up, factually speaking. It will draw your readers in, coercing them to read the accompanying article. And you will be the caption-writing hero to your client. Let it be.

Happy caption writing!

Typesetters actually used to “set” type and fonts and weights (thus, the moniker). Back when such design capabilities were not just a quick keystroke away as they are today, old-school headlines were written with every word — or nearly every word — initial-capped on every word:

• Jane Doe Relocates To Denver, Buys Mountain

Such stylized formatting helped readers back in the day know that the headline was, indeed, separate from whatever followed. More robust. More important. More headlinerish. The mix of uppercase and lowercase letters was a technique that was supposed to draw readers in, hopefully to have them become engaged with whatever followed. And that technique taught readers that the headline was a headline simply because every first letter of every (or nearly every) word was bigger than the rest. Sometimes, though, that technique focused more on the presence of the headline than on what followed.

In this modern world of faster-than-Superman wordsmiths who can craft headlines as they go, type treatment has evolved — so says the AP Stylebook. For some time now, the go-to writer’s guide has mandated initial caps only for the first word in the headline, as well as any proper nouns:

• Jane Doe relocates to Denver, buys mountain

Easy, simple and clean.

Character design overload: down style, all caps, all initial caps and an improperly used ellipsis, to boot.

Tiny articles (e.g., a, an, the) and prepositions (e.g., to, of, for) no longer receive preferential initial-uppercase treatment. The size of the initial letters no longer suggests heightened meaning. Now, writers must truly offer compelling text that lures casual passers-by, drawing them into their mystical world of words. Headlines must make the reader want to read more, not only the headline.

Viva the down-style headline! If nothing else, it’s easier on the reader’s eye. It invites readers instead of coercing them. It implies a (slightly) higher level of understanding rather than speaking to the audience as if it’s a first-grade teacher reading a held-up book. That alone must count for something.

Photo courtesy of Flickr user Alamosbasement.

I had just started working here at the agency and was excited to start things off right with an updated AP Stylebook at my fingertips. Since my own copy of the veritable writer’s bible was the 2007 version, I thought that getting a newer version was the wise thing to do. Staying current with the 2010 version (even though it’s already 2011, thank you very much) seemed like a grand idea, especially since the 2011 version wasn’t going to be published for a few months yet.

For those with inquiring minds, the 2010 version is the first style guide put out by the AP folks with website spelled as one word and an uppercase “W” on the first word. That change alone was a monumental advancement. Ask any writer or editor (or even an opinionated designer or two — they’ll freely offer their stance on the subject); he or she will probably be able to explain in enormous detail the good, the bad and the ugly concerning the one-word-versus-two spelling format.

Now — back to the crapshoot.

As a wordsmith in my new gig at Armstrong|Shank Advertising, I thought it necessary to get my hands on the latest AP Stylebook. The office manager said, “Absolutely — no worries. I’ll order one of those thingamajiggers today.”

Yay!

The spiral-bound guide arrived and I settled in, prepared for whatever freakish grammar query may pop up.

[Ominous background music kicks in.]

Just a few days ago, though, the AP Stylebook powers that be sucker-punched me by deciding to give in to the hoards of people who relentlessly complained about constantly having to hyphenate the word. The new rule? The unhyphenated email kicks its hyphenated cousin e-mail off the stage.

And that, readers, is monumental. Even more newsworthy than Web site changing to website. It’s so monumental because, in the English language, compound nouns that start with a single letter do not lose their hyphens. For example:

• A-frame
• G-string
• S-curve
• T-ball
• T-shirt
• U-turn
• X-ray

It seems strange to me that the hyphen is missing in email, too, because for the three people who still don’t know what electronic mail is, reading the word without the hyphen encourages improper pronunciation: ehMAIL. And that, as the rest of us in the know already know, isn’t correct. And now, to add insult to injury, I have an out-of-date stylebook! Oh, the humanity.

Why should email take over? Perhaps because the majority of people, while tweeting and texting and e-mailing (er, emailing) on a daily basis, decided that it’s just too complicated to add the hyphen to a word that gets communicated on such a frequent basis, and those people bended the AP Stylebook editors to their will.

So — lazy wins.

And you know what? That’s probably OK in this case. It may not be a decision based on correctness, but many, many folks will be much happier — and faster — tweeters and texters with this new rule in their back pocket.

One last detail: Email with an uppercase “E” is the correct way to begin a sentence; email with a lowercase “e” is correct in all other sentence constructions. Good times.