DEFINITION OF AN EDITOR - SOMEONE WHO WANDERED IN OUT OF THE RAIN AND FELL INTO A JOB...

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Right, Crivvies, now that I've got your attention with that provocative title, let's talk about editors.  Editors, like everything else on this planet, come in all shapes and sizes - good, bad and indifferent.  I've worked for some really good editors in my time, but I've also worked for some total incompetents.  The incompetents make for a much more interesting study, so let's focus on them.

Some incompetents may actually be quite proficient in ensuring that the whole process of comics production runs smoothly, and that the finished result arrives at the printers when it's due with as few hiccups along the way as possible.  In short, they're good traffic managers.  However, that doesn't necessarily mean that they have any particular skills for editing a comic, in the sense of choosing good writers and artists, matching the most suitable ones together, and catching mistakes - whether it be of spelling, punctuation or grammar.  Some editors I've experienced over the years have been diabolically deficient in some or all of those departments.

Let me tell you of such a tale which demonstrates the truth of the above.  I was once approached by an editor about whether I might be available to letter a Holiday Special featuring some HANNA-BARBERA cartoon characters.  I was busy at the time, but mindful of the fact that I might have a quiet period in the future, I enquired about the possibility of it leading to regular work.  "We have quite a number of upcoming projects," I was told, "so there's bound to be something or other we can send your way."

I therefore acceded to lettering the proffered project and duly received stats of the artwork.  There were three stories which required my tender attentions: The FLINTSTONES, SCOOBY DOO & YOGI BEAR.  These strips had originated as English-language tales, and then been translated into Spanish or Italian for the foreign market.  Presumably, the English versions were not readily available, necessitating the foreign editions being re-translated back into our mother-tongue to make them suitable for U.K. distribution.

The editor happened to speak whatever foreign tongue the strips were in and had enclosed a script of the English equivalent.  As most bi or multi-lingual speakers will appreciate, when one language is directly-translated into another, adjustments are often required to accommodate the rhythm and phraseology of the latter, otherwise the result are stilted.  So a verbatim translation might read: "The butter pass me please!", instead of the more natural "Please pass me the butter!"  While it wasn't quite as bad in this case, it wasn't too far removed in some instances.

Even worse, however, was that she was completely unfamiliar with Hanna-Barbera characters, which one would have thought a prerequisite for her position.  For example: RANGER SMITH was called WARDEN SMITH, PICNIC BASKETS were referred to as LUNCHEON HAMPERS, and I remember seeing another issue in which the TOWN Of BEDROCK was rendered as ROCK CITY.  In the Yogi Bear story, the veterinary surgeon's hut originally sported a doctor's sign outside.)  Going from back issues, this sort of thing was a regular occurrence, made worse by the fact that the finished strips were submitted to HB representatives for approval before publication.  (Who, it would seem, were also sound asleep at the wheel.)

On top of that, though, the dialogue and captions were just a statement of what was evident in each individual pic, while at the same time (in one particular story) suggesting an overall plot that didn't match anything shown in them.  So, if a character was running away, someone would be saying "He's running away!", while someone else replied something like "He doesn't want his picture taken!" - even if a camera was nowhere in sight.  Worst of all was that no-one ever said anything remotely humorous.

Being conscientious, I 'phoned the editor and described the all-too obvious problems with the scripts, and asked her permission to address them and to add a little humour.  She grudgingly acquiesced, recognising that I was correct, but with her nose out of joint at me detecting flaws which had escaped her attention.  The Flintstones story I amended by about 60%, the Scooby Doo tale by about 85%, and the Yogi Bear one by about 95%.  All this extra time and effort I gave for free, my chief concern being only that the stories made sense and were as entertaining as possible.

I also took time to letter some suitable story titles for the splash pages (they ruined the Flintstone's one by not adding colour), and photocopied the established character mastheads from some of my old Hanna-Barbera annuals so that the stories would look as 'authentic' as possible.  I doubt that anyone ever lavished as much attention on previous specials as I had with this one.  The finished result certainly looked far better than those which had preceded it.  After finishing a few pages I noticed another problem, so I then took special care to make the new lettering accommodate the speech balloons as closely as possible, without them looking too big (or small) for the enclosed dialogue.  (Which was often a feature of pre-computer relettering on translated strips.)

Some months after publication, I 'phoned her again to enquire about some courtesy copies she had promised to send which I hadn't received, and to ask if she might have any regular work for me yet.  She said she had sent the copies (which, going by her tone, I doubt) and frostily denied ever having suggested that she might send me other work.  Yet another example of an editor saying whatever is expedient to secure the services of some trusting freelancer, only to discard them when they're no longer required to meet a deadline and save their bacon.

Would it have been wiser if I'd said nothing and just turned in an inferior product?  Perhaps, but I was motivated purely by a desire to make the job as good as it could be, not to show off in any way.  Had she dismissed my concerns and asked me to do it as it was, I would have, but she couldn't deny that my observations had merit.  My wish to do the best job possible rather than just 'phone it in', made her look more efficient and competent than she actually was.  Trust me, some editors are absolutely bloody useless - but I'll keep their names to myself.  And if there's anybody out there who isn't as annoyed by this sort of thing as I am, then I'm a Dutchman.

(This is Kid Van Der Valk signing off.)

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I should perhaps add that anything even remotely resembling humour in any of the above pages was dialogued by myself.