Aaaaargh!

OK, I get it. I really do, honestly. Been there, done that, understand the issues. But that doesn't mean I have to like it.

It's no secret that I used to be a publisher. In a small way, yes; in fact, in a positively miniscule way compared with the giants like Penguin Random House and Hachette. But I published books; I started with a great manuscript and took all the necessary steps to turn it into a real book and get it on to the shelves in at least a few shops, properly edited, typeset and covered.

I don't think it's bragging to say that I took some trouble over it; I did everything I could to ensure that the book that stood on those shelves was the book the author had set out to write, with typos, continuity glitches, grammar trip-ups and plot holes excised. An American distributor took an interest, so the finished books were available across the water too; he was kind enough to say our production values were excellent.

Authors don't always see their own glitches; they're a hundred times closer than anyone else, hold 80,000 words of story, background and character development in their heads, and occasionally drop a ball; brain runs ahead of eyes, and they can be easily forgiven for it. That's why authors need editors, copy-editors and proofreaders – to pick those balls up and land them safely on the right side of whatever net your sporting proclivities want to call it.

But running a publishing company doesn't happen without a certain financial input. The idea, of course, is to get that input back through book sales. Mine was a tiny company; we sold some books, but we never really came out ahead, barely covered our costs, in fact, which is one reason (though only one) I'm not still running it. All the same, I didn't compromise on those excellent production values, and they were one aspect of the whole experience which I feel I can look back on with great pride. Every book had a development editor, a thorough copy-edit and at least three pairs of eyes on it for proofreading. I can't claim that not a single typo ever slipped through; one or two, sometimes more than that, slide past the most assiduous checking. But they were few and far between, and I think the authors appreciated the effort that went into making them look as good as possible. And of course, although we never came within a million miles of the kind of best-seller which pays for a dozen brilliant but unprofitable debuts, all the people who made that effort needed to be paid.

And that's why it happens. I do know publishing isn't really a licence to print money; in order to get the books out there, the publisher has to spend an awful lot of the 90% of cover price which doesn't go to the author.

All the same, the likes of Penguin Random House and Hachette, and a whole raft of others, do get the occasional best-seller which rakes in an awful lot more than its outlay; in fact they get enough of them to pay large dividends to shareholders as well as cover all those costs, and fund the books which aren't quite so successful. So why, why, why, am I reading so many books which, it if wasn't for the absence of that final polish, could be great? Some have clearly never been near a copy-editor: bumpy sentences; typos upon typos; gaping continuity errors. And why, why, why, has the development editor not given the author that most basic piece of advice?: read each sentence aloud, and the rhythm will tell you where to put the punctuation. Every published author has a great story to tell; not every published author necessarily sees his/her own errors. I know this because I do it myself; I've lost count of the times I've written an article or review, sent it off to the publication which commissioned it – then winced when I saw it in print because I was too hasty and didn't spot my own basic mistakes.

That final polish isn't just money well spent; it's the shining gold that makes a book stand out in the best possible way. Unfortunately the opposite is also true, but in a very bad way. Don't publishers know how distracting, and sometimes misleading, those stupid errors can be? And if they don't, isn't it time someone told them? Yeah, OK, times are tough and profits are down. But still...

There; rant over. No apologies. It needed to be said. Now go spot my mistakes...