Thursday, February 25, 2010
“What happened to this place?”
I whirled around. “Fogarty! I told you to stay out.”
The Old Copy Editor said, “Fogarty? Mignon Fogarty? Great Fowler’s Ghost, is this Grammar Girl herself?”
“Yeah,” I said, “minus the cape and the winged boots.”
“Could I have your autograph, Ms. Fogarty? On my copy of The Grammar Devotional?”
“We’ve got more important things to do,” I said. She didn’t listen. She never listens.
“Why, certainly,” she said, whipping out a pen faster than the Earp boys slapped leather at the O.K. Corral. “But tell me, what happened to this place?”
“Well,” the Old Copy Editor said, “with nobody going into print journalism anymore, they ran out of unpaid interns, and then they couldn’t generate enough copy to fill as much as six pages. They tried to sell the building, but even the state penitentiary system turned them down. Plan to turn the printing plant into luxury waterfront condos went bust, too. They offered up the computer equipment, but it was so old and broken down from lack of maintenance that even the Third World wouldn’t touch it.
“But the worst was, they lost the Web. They cheesed off the funeral directors — tried to jack up the prices for the death notices on the Web, and the funeral directors set up their own obituary Web site. Turns out the obits were the only things of ours anyone still read. Web traffic dropped to a couple of dozen hits a day, and the Scavenger Group abandoned the whole shebang. One day, everybody just left.”
“Fogarty!” I yelled. “Enough! You have to look at this.” I shoved the VERBS entry at her, and her big brown eyes widened.
“This is big,” she said, “bigger than just the Peevers.”
“Damn straight,” I said.
“Look,” she said, her broad brow furrowing. “Did you see? There are pinpricks under other letters.”
“What? Let me look.”
She was right:
“The abbreviation v. is used in this book to identify the spelling of the verb forms of words frequently misspelled.
“SPLIT FORMS: In general, avoid awkward constructions that split infinitive forms of a verb. ...”
“You know what this means?” she asked.
“It means the conspiracy is broader than anyone could have imagined. It’s big, all right. The AP itself. The Peevers. The self-appointed language authorities. The Illuminati. And now the aristocrats of the multiple-choice test. They’re all in on it. Wouldn’t surprise me if they’ve recruited the Myers-Briggsians, too — they’ll fall for anything. And it’s all coded in the AP Stylebook. You see what we have to do now?”
“You mean ...”
“Yes, sister. We’ve got to break into AP Stylebook Headquarters. Fast.”
Next: The dark tower