Shirley McShane Sillars

After a rigorous few minutes at the Word Police Academy, I took the Anti-Redundancy Squad Entrance Exam and walked away with this snappy certificate. Not only do you get an official-looking document to add to your collection, but also a tablet of citations to issue should the need arise. There are 12 tests in all.

Here’s to happy testing and productive patrolling.

No matter how high-tech writing and publishing gets, I’ll never pitch my collection of dog-eared reference books.

Nestled between metal bookends on my desk are two dictionaries, a thesaurus, a book of synonyms and antonyms, The Associated Press Stylebook and Strunk & White’s The Elements of Style. I also keep a modest number of specialized resources such as Harper’s Dictionary of Music and a Dorling Kindersley Pocket Guide to World History.

I’ve been collecting these guides since college. They’ve stood guard over my work for 20 years. While the Internet is getting more of my attention these days, I still regard my books as the final word.

But sometimes my books fall short.  There are two places online I’ll check first before expanding my search. Both of these Web sites offer excellent information on spelling, grammar and word usage. Both will help you learn something new today.

Barbara Wallraff’s Word Court is a weekly syndicated column that answers readers’ questions and poses fun word challenges. She also has a blog on The Atlantic, where she has worked for 25 years.

Washington Post copy desk chief Bill Walsh keeps his eyes open and his ears tuned to style and usage violations in all manner of media. In addition to his longstanding Web site, The Slot, he’s also published two books on writing and word usage.

You don’t need to be a member of  the media elite  to appreciate his posts. In fact, for those outside the business, Walsh’s  Sharp Points may shed some light on a number of timeless subjects, such as the difference between “good ol’ boys” and “the old boy network”. Enjoy.

One thing about casting yourself as a copy editor and proofreader is that it sometimes challenges folks to look for your mistakes.

While having a reader point out a typo is embarrassing, it proves my point: We all need copy editors. No one is above correction.  Not us mere mortals. Not the mighty computer.

If I traveled around my neighborhood wielding a big red pen, I’d have plenty of places to use it, from misspellings “wheel alinements done here” on an auto shop sign, to improper punctuation “fresh apple’s, 99 cent’s a pound” painted on a produce market flier, to this doozy on a pharmacy sign: If your sick their quick minute service.

I think we’ve all grown accustomed to these typos. There are Web sites dedicated to finding and posting such gaffes. Check out this for some laughs.

Some folks may argue that it doesn’t matter if the signs are wrong, just as long as the idea still comes across. But at what point does your idea get lost in the translation?

We forgive these errors in English-as-a-second language situations,  just as we hope citizens of  non-English speaking countries excuse our spotty foreign language skills. Otherwise, we really have no excuse. Do you want your Web site, your work, featured as the latest post on a blog specializing in “what not to do?”

Probably not.

Relying upon your computer’s spell checking program is about a safe as employing an umbrella in a hurricane. Case in point — and this comes from a newspaper — unforgivable in my book:

The article expounded the changes to Michigan’s school funding structure. What the writer meant to distinguish was the funding disparities between rich school districts and poor school districts. I suspect an over-reliance on  the spell checker changed the struggle to one between rich districts and poop districts.

This elicited many laughs from readers and within the  newsroom (it wasn’t our paper) as we pondered what a poop district might look like and why state funding was lacking.