To Double Space or Not To Double Space. That is the Question.

It would appear I am not as hip as I would like to believe.  To be fair, I don’t even believe myself to be terribly hip at all.  To not even be that hip is a major blow.  Perhaps using the word ‘hip’ at all should have told me that already.

I had submitted a portion of a manuscript to an editor for review.  Elizabeth marked it up, returned it, and I read it.  One particular note had caught my eye – “Remove the extra space after the periods.”  I eyeballed the pages but couldn’t find more than two after any given period, so I wasn’t certain what she had meant.  After a follow up, I learned that two spaces after a period is considered passé.

As I prepared to type this, I asked a friend their thoughts.  I had assumed they would have said ‘two’ and I wanted some corroborating evidence I wasn’t the only one still using this practice.  I was incorrect. 

Boyd:  “How many spaces should you put after a period?”

Friend:  “One.”

Boyd:  “What!?!  Why one?”

Friend:  “Why would you put more?”

Boyd:  “I was taught TWO.  I’ve always used TWO!  I’ve used TWO since I would get papers marked incorrectly in typing class!!!”

Friend:  “Typing class?  What is this – the 60’s?”

What made me even angrier was he was alive in the 60’s and he knew to only use one period.  I was born over a decade later and I wasn’t in the know.

It would seem that this is not a new rule.  A quick Google search shows there has been an extensive dialogue on this for a number of years.  The earliest webpage I could find was 2011, but I’m certain this has been a discussion for far longer.

How on Earth did I miss this?

I feel as though there should have been some sort of announcement made.  On any given day, I’m made to suffer the latest hairstyle of the Kardashian de jour in a news feed, but a monumental shift in a rule of grammar?  Nothing.

When did this lot become more important than grammar...?

I can see the argument for the change.  Back in the days of the typewriter, each character typed used the 

same amount of horizontal spacing (fancy word for ‘width’) no matter the need.  A good example would be the lower case ‘w’ vs. the lower case ‘l’ – clearly one is wider, but on a typewriter they would take up the same amount of spacing.  Since all the spacing was equal, it could be difficult to tell when one sentence ended and another started.  The extra space after the period made it clear.

The old monospace type from a typewriter on top.  The more modern proportional type on the bottom.

Fast forward to the age of word processers where the traditional monospace type was replaced with proportional.  Meaning?  Proportional sets the spacing based on the actual size of the letter.  Here’s a random assortment of letters to demonstrate:  wlmi1qvbzx.  The lower case ‘l’ between the ‘w’ and the ‘m’ 

clearly takes up less space.

The first computer I ever used - the Radio Shack TRS Model 80 Version 3.

Learning this is difficult to mentally process.  The double space after the period has been ingrained in my head for decades.  It’s like suddenly waking up and having everyone tell you that the sky is green, apples are orange, or that Donald Trump is President of the United States.

For the moment, I’m refusing to embrace the single spacing thing.  I was taught two spaces, I’ve always used two spaces, and damn this new-fangled way of thinking.  Until next week, I’ll be on my front porch yelling at the neighborhood children to get off my lawn.

Bringing Opening Lines to a Close

It’s as if the groundhog saw his shadow and we have six more weeks of opening lines.  Okay…okay…not six more weeks, just one.  Since this has become Opening Lines:  The Trilogy, let’s press on as we bring this topic to a close. 

“When the Spook arrived, the light was already beginning to fail.” – The Last Apprentice:  Revenge of the Witch by Joseph Delaney.

Why it doesn’t work for me?  I’m curious about who – or what – the Spook is.  It’s nearing nightfall.  Outside of that, it doesn’t give a lot away and isn’t terribly enticing.  Here’s the thing – this book is the first in a series of no less than fifteen books.  I’ve read every last one!  I offer this up as an example that while first lines are important, they are just that – first lines.  There are still 80,000 or so other words in most books for the reader to ultimately decide.  So why did I continue one?  It may have been the clever little marketing trick on the back cover…

Naturally, I read it after dark.  ESPECIALLY page 140.

“Lady Farley-Stoud set her cup and saucer down with a clatter.  The occasional table beside the armchair in our drawing room wobbled precariously under the impact.” – Christmas at the Grange by T.E. Kinsey.

Why this doesn’t work for me?  Hmmm…this one is tough.  It’s not so much the words as the tone.  The “Lady”, “occasional table”, and “drawing room” all implied something…stuffy?  It didn’t appeal to my senses as being fun.  It reminded me of being in my Great Aunt’s house as a child.  Staring into the room where you were never to step foot.  And if by chance you were allowed to venture in, you certainly didn’t touch anything.  Opening lines convey information, tone, and voice.  If this is a period piece set in England, someone would most likely be in love at first sight.  Not being a Downtown Abbey fan, I closed it up and moved on.

“The tired old carriage, pulled by two tired old horses, rumbled onto the wharf, its creaky wheels bumpety-bumping on the uneven planks, waking Peter from his restless slumber.  The carriage interior, hot and stuffy, smelled of five smallish boys and one largish man, none of whom was keen on bathing.” – Peter and the Starcatchers by Dave Barry and Ridley Pearson.

Why it works for me?  Talk about painting a picture!  They’ve engaged all five senses in these two sentences.  The tail end of the second line – on not bathing – tosses in a little bit of the tone that is to come.  It’s as if you’ve slipped on those virtual reality googles and stepped into their world.  This passage ticks off all the points of a strong opening.  If you haven’t read the series, I highly recommend it!    

The illustrations in the book were done by Greg Call.  They are simple yet full of incredible detailing.

“Toni Diamond heard the ping signaling a text message.  As though the signal had an echo, her daughter Tiffany received a text at the same time.” – A Diamond Choker for Christmas by Nancy Warren.

Why it doesn’t work for me?  Read the opening before this one – from Peter and the Starcatchers.  Then read this one again.  Night and day, my friend.  Let’s break it down.  We have Toni and Tiffany getting texts at – gasp! – the same time.  Where are they?  Time of day? So many more engaging details could have been slipped in.  Even something about the text itself to build suspense.  There was nothing here enticing me to continue on.

“Elisabeth Strenger peeled three boiled eggs under running water, dropped them into a chipped Blue Willow china bowl, and began to mash them with a fork.  She took a quick puff on her cigarette, blew smoke out through the back window, and tapped ashes into the drain.” – You’ll Never Know, Dear by Hallie Ephron.

Why it works for me?  I know she’s in a kitchen.  The chipped Blue Willow china bowl allows you to see something very specific.  Granted, I didn’t know the Blue Willow brand.  In my head I was seeing Corning’s Blue Cornflower.

Not what the author was referring to, but she invoked an image.

The speed of the puff and where she blew the smoke imply that perhaps she wasn’t supposed to be smoking in the house.  Or was sneaking a quick cigarette.  That she tapped the ashes into the sink drain supports that.  Otherwise she may have had an ashtray nearby.  Again, you have strong imagery here.  Look back at our previous example and then to this one.  Two sentences each, but the two from Hallie Ephron give you a far greater bang for the buck.

And just like that, we’ve wrapped up our three week discussion on opening lines.  I’d love to know your thoughts.  If you agree, disagree, or have some examples of good and bad opening lines you’d like to share.

See you next week!