We've been working like maniacs to get the new site done. I hope you like it. As with anything new, and new technology in particular, I expect there may be some transitional weirdness --- some getting used to, some misalignment, even some [gasp] typos.

What comforts me as we release a potentially imperfect site into the world is that there are typos in the Chicago Manual of Style. I know because our hardworking students have come across more than a few. They bring them to me and ask, "Am I reading this incorrectly? Chicago can't possibly have gotten this wrong, can it?" Ah, but it did. 

To know that the smartest, most thorough style manual around has been beaten at its own game is somehow reassuring. Typos are like cockroaches --- no matter how hard you try, no matter how perfect you are, no matter how many times you comb through the pages --- you simply can't kill them all. There will almost always be one, lurking undiscovered for what could be years, who will eventually skitter across the floor and send a shudder through the house. I don't think I want to take this creepy crawly metaphor any further.

The point is, if you find a typo on our website, feel free to point it out, but please don't assume we are not good at what we do. Our students tell us we are pretty great; you can read some of their feedback here. We are very proud of our proofreading course, and, having been out there nosing around, I believe it is one of the best on the Internet. But we are human too, and so flawed, sometimes distracted, and sleepy when we should be working.

As proofreaders we do our very, very best, but we cannot, like machines, be counted upon for 100 percent accuracy. This is a great paradox. Anyone who has ever used a word processing spell checker knows that automated editing is a colossal failure. Proofreading is something that can only be done by human eyes. For all the good the human touch brings --- thoughtful decision making, alignment of bird's and worm's eye perspectives, choosing the synonym that is just right --- it also brings a degree, however slight, of error.

When I come across a typo in a printed book, the literary snob in me immediately thinks, How blatant! How could any self-respecting proofreader have missed this clunker?, as I consider photocopying the page and sending it, bathed in red ink, to the publisher. But then I remember that surrounding that lone word in a book that is misspelled, or missing, or slightly off, there are tens of thousands of words that are beautiful, flawless, moving. Those are the words a proofreader will never get credit for, although she will take all the blame for that one little slip.