Proofreading

The WRONG way to proof your layout (sample dialog)...

CLIENT:	Here's the check! I'm done, right?
TOADSTAFF:	No, you still have to fill out paperwork. Have you looked at this proof?
CLIENT:	Looks great! [furious round of initialing everything on the contract ensues] I'm done, right? CDs in two weeks, right?
TOADSTAFF:	Three weeks, generally, unless something goes wrong, then it's longer, and...
CLIENT:	Okay, no problem, see ya!
TOADSTAFF:	Wait! Are you sure you've checked over that proof thoroughly enough?
CLIENT:	I was watching while they were typing it in, most of the time. And even if there are mistakes, I'm not that picky. [ominous rumble of thunder in the background] I just want to get this thing done! See ya!
TOADSTAFF:	OK, see ya... off it goes.

The RIGHT way to proof your layout...

Throughout the design process, you take away rough laser or inkjet proofs, and check them over.  You show them to five of your friends, asking them what they think.  If you're lucky, they'll point out a couple things you hadn't noticed.  Perhaps you need to add a name (or two, or ten) to the Special Thanks section.  Perhaps the name of the album is spelled incorrectly on the spine.  Perhaps the songs are in the wrong order. [at least once a year, it seems, a CD actually goes to press with incorrect track listings]

When it appears that the design is finished, you get a final digital proof, of decent quality.  You show it to your five friends again. This time, you ask them if they'd mind checking it over for mistakes.  If you're lucky, one of them is a killer copyeditor, and you'll catch everything, down to misused apostrophes and extra spaces.  If you aren't lucky, you'll still get most of it, including, hopefully, all of the embarrassing problems.

You get the designer to fix all of the mistakes that you've caught.  You print out rough copies and check them against a list that you've brought with you.  You give the OK to make film and Matchprints.

The first set of film and Matchprints gets rejected by the designer because of a technical gaffe on the part of the film house. When the second matchprint comes back, you take it home and live with it for a couple days. You show it to your friends. By now, they're either sick of it or they're taking personal pride in its perfection. Nobody finds anything.

Eventually, you find one double space in an unobtrusive spot, and a missing period after "All rights reserved".  You decide that it's not worth redoing the film just for that. Off it goes...

Why you should proof your layout the right way:

Once, a staff designer at Mr. Toad's did a layout for an album of Banda music.  She didn't speak Spanish...

The leader of the band had written out all the song titles and liner notes. As our designer typed them in, she mistook every one of his r's for v's.  Names were misspelled, songs were misspelled. It was a mess. But it was a beautiful design, and the leader of the band loved it. We printed out a proof for him. He checked it over, and expressed his delight in no uncertain terms. Then, he signed the CD replication contract, and initialed the item indicating that he had proofed his layout completely.

Three weeks or so later, the discs came back. The band picked up their discs, and took them away. A week after that, we received a phone call, requesting that we redo the discs, free of charge. Our answer was: Sorry, no.

We can't possibly take responsibility for copy editing. If we did, we'd go out of business faster than you can spell potatoe. We weren't happy about the errors. It wasn't as if we made more money because a good client wound up with misspelled track titles. We want to produce perfect CDs every time. We need your help, if we're going to pull it off!

Fortunately, this story has a happy ending.  There were a couple of people who were really upset about the errors, but the fans didn't care ("Americanos estupidos!") and they bought the album anyway.  The band sold out of CDs, and came back for more.