Written by: Alice Lehtinen
Published: 21 February 2025

On 31 January 2025, Dr Fiona Richards from Nazarbayev University, Kazakhstan, gave an interesting online UniSIG talk titled ‘Proofreading student writing: A research-based stakeholder tool focused on ethical practice’. Fiona began the session by introducing us to the stakeholder tool for examining ethical practices in proofreading that she developed together with Nigel Harwood (Sheffield University) as part of her doctoral studies. Her main research question was ‘How do students, proofreaders, and lecturers perceive a range of proofreader interventions in terms of ethical appropriacy?’

In their co-authored paper³, Fiona and Nigel described the taxonomy they used to develop the stakeholder tool, which was based on Nigel’s taxonomy (2018)¹ and Kruger and Bevan Dye’s (2010)² frameworks. They also used the SENSE Guidelines for Proofreading Student Texts (2016) to confirm proofreading service for a student thesis. The taxonomy enabled them to analyse how many and what kinds of proofreading interventions (e.g. changing words or correcting punctuation) were made to students’ writing. They also interviewed the study participants for their views on ‘lighter and heavier’ interventions.

The need for this tool arose in response to Harwood’s claim that ‘Many British universities do not have proofreading policies, with those that do providing little information as to ethically (in)appropriate forms of intervention.’ It seems that UK academics are hardly aware of what proofreading entails, let alone the ethics and guidelines surrounding this service. More universities are now drawing up proofreading policies, but these are still brief and vague.

The purpose of the stakeholder tool is to help academics (supervisors, lecturers and university teachers) decide whether the changes made by proofreaders, i.e. third-party interventions, are appropriate, that is, ethical or unethical. It can also serve as an educative tool and remind writers of their responsibilities.

The tool consists of a questionnaire that suggests various third-party interventions, and the respondent can decide whether or not these interventions are ethical. Fiona showed us an example of two interventions that reordered the words, phrases or sentences in a paragraph written by a student. The first asked the student to think about the placing of a sentence and to decide where it should be placed. The second was a ‘heavier’ intervention, as it directly suggested (in a comment) moving the sentence to the end of the paragraph. The first intervention was considered more ethically acceptable by the supervisor as the student had to do the thinking, whereas the second intervention did the thinking on behalf of the student. The study found that students were more permissive of ethical appropriateness than academics were, and that their stances sometimes differed greatly. It also showed that some supervisors acted as grammar checkers, but that others were content to let proofreaders make suggestions.

The stakeholder tool can be used in workshops to train proofreaders and policymakers. It aims to draw attention to the ethical appropriateness of proofreading and to make stakeholders communicate more with each other. It can also be used to encourage and inform proofreading policies.

After Fiona’s presentation, a lively discussion ensued. The first question concerned the definition of ethical appropriacy. Where do we draw the line? We all agreed that this was a difficult issue. Is a ‘lighter or heavier proofreading touch’ more appropriate? The editors in our group raised the age-old issue of ‘fixing versus flagging’ with the following questions:

• How far do we go when language editing?
• Isn’t part of our work to teach writers, and to help them improve their writing?
• Shouldn’t we show them how it’s done?

Fiona’s opinion was that students should be permitted to receive some guidance on their writing – a supervisor can’t just leave their students’ papers full of grammar mistakes, for example, and should be allowed to correct their writing.

Fiona’s doctoral study focused on an English L2 Spanish student, whose command of English was close to native level, and who was writing a thesis for her doctorate of education in English. She was helped by an English L1 proofreader and her English L1 supervisor. In the study, the student had strong opinions about the proofreading changes. She voiced these opinions and made sure she had the last word, even if her language-related opinions were not always in line with those of her supervisor. However, the pilot study had an English L2 Chinese student, who had a lower level of English and allowed much more language intervention and even wanted suggestions from the proofreader to improve their writing.

Many of us attending Fiona’s online session were self-employed academic English editors, who work with researchers, some of whom are PhD students and write articles for publication in international journals. One editor expressed the following ‘sinking feeling’, which I personally identified with: ‘So, is what we do so unethical?’ And doesn’t this also make journal reviewers’ comments unethical?

However, our discussion concluded that this type of intervention is very different to proofreading young graduate students’ writing, and that it is based on a different set of standards. Some of us even saw ourselves as part of the writer’s ‘team’. As our clients pay us to improve their writing, they want us to make changes, to make it worth paying us. And so our boundaries may stretch further than those around students’ writing. Fiona’s tool can’t really be applied to scholarly writing, as it is intended for assessing student writing, and so a distinction was drawn between these types of interventions.

This then led to a brief discussion on the difference between proofreading and editing, a topic under ongoing debate. Copy-editing was also mentioned, and how its definition has changed over time. We talked about the difference between the ethicality of, on the one hand, changing word order, spelling and punctuation, and fixing mechanical language issues and, on the other hand, suggesting that the writer change the order of their research questions in a paper. Here, the line between language editing and substantive editing is crossed. This raised the following questions:

• If a proofreader/editor actually almost rewrites the text… is it even the original author’s work anymore?
• What exactly is the editor’s role?

We all agreed that these questions were difficult to answer.

We concluded that interventions in scholarly writing for publication are not the same as interventions in graduate students’ writing, but that in both areas, guidelines need to be more transparent. Clearer policies are required to help solve these ethical dilemmas.

References

1. Harwood, N. (2018) ‘What do proofreaders of student writing do to a master’s essay? Differing interventions, worrying findings’. Written Communication, 35(4), 474‒ 530. https://doi.org/10.1177/0741088318786236

2. Kruger, H., and A. Bevan-Dye. (2010) ‘Guidelines for the editing of dissertations and theses: A survey of editors’ perceptions’. Southern African Linguistics and Applied Language Studies, 28(2), 153‒169. https://doi.org/10.2989/16073614.2010.519110

3. Richards, F., & Harwood, N. (2024). ‘Proofreading student writing: A research-based stakeholder tool focused on ethical practice’. International Journal for Educational Integrity, 20(20), 1‒16. https://doi.org/10.1007/s40979-024-00165-4

SENSE (2016). Guidelines for Proofreading Student Texts.

Written by: Eline Tuijn
Published: 12 February 2025

She opened her eyes. The sunlight streaming through the window felt like the stab of a knife in her eyes. She closed them again. The hard flagstone floor seeped cold into her back and legs. She tried to move her head but pain shot through her back. She felt winded and disorientated. Then, like a swell of the tide, the memory of what had happened came flooding back: the handle of the mug breaking off, boiling water scalding her stomach and leg, the pain shooting up her foot as she stepped on a fragment of broken mug, losing her balance as she hopped to the kitchen chair, banging her head against the kitchen table as she sunk to the floor.

She blinked and turned her head to the right. Looking down at her was Bernard. She couldn’t remember hearing him come into the kitchen. His face took on a worried expression when their eyes met. ‘Sheila, are you alright?’ he asked. ‘What happened?’ He knelt down beside her and put his hand on her shoulder. ‘Let’s get you up off this floor.’

When he made to push her up, she gasped in pain. He released his grip but kept his hand resting on her shoulder. The weight of his hand felt heavy, as if he was pushing her down. ‘We’ll try that again, shall we?’ Bernard leaned over her to gently slide his hand and lower arm under her shoulder, his face almost touching hers. She felt his warm breath on her face, a smell of coffee mixed with the fresh scent of his aftershave. The intensity of it was overwhelming, almost nauseating. This time, instead of pulling her up, Bernard stretched out beside her, with his arm underneath her and rolled her onto her side.

The next morning, Sheila was emptying out the bin. She noticed the fragments of mug and the broken handle caught her eye. Something was not quite right, the break seemed too perfect.

‘Crying over spilled milk?’ joked Bernard as he walked into the kitchen and saw her staring at the bin.

‘No.’ Sheila replied, unsure whether to say something about the mug or not.

‘There’s no need to be so short with me.’ Bernard sounded hurt.

‘I’m not… it’s just… Oh never mind.’

‘What’s wrong with you?’

‘Nothing, why would you say that?’

‘You’ve been acting weird since that little bump on the head.’

‘It was more than a little bump, you found me unconscious on the floor, for Chrissake.’ She stopped short, her mind working overtime as she thought back to the accident.

Had his expression changed from dispassionate observation to concern when he noticed her looking at him? The smell of fresh coffee on his breath. Had he really made himself coffee with her lying unconscious on the floor? She felt doubt settling uneasily in the pit of her stomach as it struck her. Was he trying to get rid of her?

That afternoon, over a cup of tea at her sister’s, Sheila took the plunge. She explained what had happened, that Bernard had only seemed worried once she regained consciousness, the smell of coffee mixed with aftershave, the handle of the mug that appeared to be broken deliberately and stuck back on.

Clarissa was having none of it. ‘I mean, it doesn’t make sense. Why would he do something like that?’

‘I don’t know, for mum’s inheritance?’

‘I think you’ve been watching too many murder mysteries.’

‘Last week the brakes didn’t work. And he was the last person to drive the car.’

‘That’s hardly a sign of a murderous husband,’ Clarissa laughed. ‘Wasn’t your car up for a test anyway?’

‘Well yes but that’s beside the point. Now that I think about it, he’s been acting more aloof lately, as if he’s distancing himself from me.’

‘Sheila, the man has just been promoted six months into his new job. That’s a huge vote of confidence. And responsibility. He’s probably got tons on his mind and is trying to do his best for the company. Makes sense that his marriage is on the backburner a little.’

Sheila continued as if she hadn’t heard. ‘And a week ago when I went into his study to clean up, I saw some insurance papers lying on his desk and Bernard came in and was really angry with me for snooping.’

‘Sweetie, your imagination is running wild. I get annoyed when Mark rearranges my things, too.’

Was she wrong? No. Her resolve hardened.

The only thing she could think of was to test him, draw him out. But how? Pretend she was terminally ill, or fake her suicide? Or tell him she was leaving him and see if he would go after her and try to kill her? That was a risky ploy but it might just work if she planned it right. Yes, she would leave a note saying that she was leaving him and that she was staying at their holiday cabin in the Cotswolds until the divorce and not to visit her. She would install cameras and record him coming over. If he came over.

Two days later Sheila watched the doctor’s lips move but couldn’t register what he was saying. Thoughts tumbled through her mind like a washing machine, churning the same ideas over and over. Only when Clarissa shook her by the arm, did she manage to focus and ask ‘how did it happen?’

The doctor suppressed a small sigh: ‘Like I explained, the police say he was hit by the number nine bus on the way to the station. He was brought in with quite severe injuries but he will make a good recovery.’ Then apologetically said, ‘look, I’m sorry but I have to do my rounds. You can collect his belongings at the front desk.’ And off he hurried, eager to put distance between them.

At the front desk, the receptionist handed her the blue sports bag she knew so well. It was the bag she used for her gym gear. Why had Bernard taken her sports clothes to the station? As she lifted the bag, she heard a clink of metal. She stiffened, then walked quickly to the exit. ‘Where are you going?’ Clarissa asked, half running to keep up with her. ‘What’s going on, aren’t you going to go up to see Bernard?’

Sheila didn’t answer but unlocked the car, opened the boot and swung the bag in with a thud. Fingers fumbling, she unzipped the bag and yanked it open. She stared at the contents. Clarissa came up behind her, still talking but she stopped short as she looked down. There in the blue bag, between Sheila’s crumpled T-shirt and tracksuit bottoms, was a rope, a hammer and a bicycle chain with a padlock.

First there was silence. Sheila stood frozen, a thudding in her ears slowly drowning out the silence and becoming louder and louder until Clarissa made a strangled, choking sound. The sisters stared at each other, eyes large. She saw the shock in Clarissa’s eyes and a look of pity spreading over her sister’s face. That galvanized her into action. She closed the boot with a bang and walked to the driver’s side.

‘Get in,’ she said curtly to Clarissa, whose eyes widened at the tone, but she obeyed and got into the car without saying a word. Sheila started the car, jerkily put it into gear and drove off. After ten minutes of driving in silence, they pulled up in front of Sheila and Bernard’s house.

As they got out of the car, they heard music. A thudding beat of drums, rich deep vibrations of bugles and the bright notes of a trumpet ringing out above the rest. The melodic clamour swelled to a crescendo as around the corner came a brass band marching towards them, engulfing them in a boisterous wave of deep brassy tones and shrill piping trebles. The row of players parted effortlessly around them, like a current of water flowing around a rock. Sheila took in the faces of the musicians as they walked past, staring straight ahead concentrating on their instruments. Suddenly she recognized one of them. The blood drained from her face as she watched Bernard march past her, oblivious to her presence, with the smell of freshly ground coffee in his wake. Her head started spinning, her knees buckled and then everything went black.

Written by: Tomas Brogan
Published: 31 January 2025

I passed the Diploma in Translation (DipTrans), working from Dutch to English, in two sittings. In a perfect world the three exam papers would be passed in one sitting. Alas. In my case I passed two papers first time, and failed one. A year later I resat the failed paper and was given a distinction for that part of the exam. Here is my take on the value of the DipTrans qualification – and how to pass it.

High-level translation skills

The UK-based DipTrans exam is set at Master’s level by the Chartered Institute of Linguists (CIOL), and accredited by the government’s qualifications office (Ofqual). It is renowned as a tough test of your translation skills, since the measure of your translation is whether it could be used for professional purposes. At heart the concept is simple: choose your source and target language, pay £895 and sit three exams with access to paper resources only. If you pass, you join the ranks of DipTrans holders for life.

To obtain a distinction in the exam there must be evidence of complete comprehension of the source text, no transfer of meaning can be missed, and all target-language conventions must be adhered to. For a merit or a pass some slip-ups may be acceptable, for example with punctuation or spelling. But too many small mistakes or one incorrect transfer of meaning can result in a fail for that paper. Any combination of passing grades across the three exams (pass/merit/distinction) will result in a ‘pass’ for the DipTrans as a whole.

The ideal qualification for translators?

Whether the DipTrans is ideal for you will depend on a few factors. It can be useful for translators with a university education in languages and some translation experience who are looking for a translation-specific qualification before they approach agencies. In this case the DipTrans is an excellent option as holding the exam will boost your confidence, as well as your clients’ confidence in your work.

The DipTrans can also be seen as a quicker and cheaper alternative to an MA in Translation. Finally, when applying for the Institute of Translation and Interpreting (ITI) Qualified Translator assessment, holding the DipTrans, along with references and Continuing Professional Development (CPD), can obviate the need to sit an ITI translation test, which again shows the DipTrans’ worth in the translation business.

Pricing

The price can initially be off-putting, particularly if you consider that resitting one exam paper will cost up to £500. However, remember that the DipTrans is a serious piece of CPD that proves you can translate at a high level. Because sitting two exams is almost as expensive as sitting all three, there are two basic strategies. First, you can sit all three exams at once and hope for the best possible result. Second, you can take one exam at a time. The second strategy would however cost £1,270 instead of £895 if all papers are passed on the first try – and this strategy could take a lot longer. Once one exam is passed, you have three years to pass the remaining exams before the ‘pass’ expires.

Three remote exams without internet access

In addition to the translation of a three-hour, 650-word general text, you will choose two semi-specialized papers of 450 words from the following subjects: technology, business, literature, science, social science, arts and culture, and law. Both of these papers are two hours in length.

The exams take place twice a year, in January and July. When I sat the exams in 2022 and 2023 they were spread out over two days, with the general translation exam on the first day. The exam has to be taken at your place of residence (do not book a hotel!) and as you might have guessed, it has to be quiet because you must be undisturbed for the duration of the exam, which is recorded and proctored remotely. It is then a lengthy three-month wait for the results.

Paper reference works only

Only paper resources can be used, which is a great excuse to bring out the old-school dictionary nerd in all of us. You will want all your good dictionaries and a great thesaurus. An up-to-date target language dictionary is a must. Subject-specific dictionaries, works on idioms or punctuation and style guides are all helpful. If you are well prepared, you will most likely not use these, and you will not have time for extensive research in any case. But having a pile of reference works at the back of your desk does calm the nerves somewhat.

Note that in-person exams may also be available, check the CIOL website for details.

Sounds good, but how do you actually pass the exam?

If you’re like me, you’ll want to pass the DipTrans in the most efficient way possible. The time investment is considerable and while a couple of misses is par for the course, failing papers can quickly get frustrating – and expensive. To pass as quickly as possible, I recommend the following:

• Find a DipTrans training provider who will advise you which course to take and will assign you a tutor. I used and can recommend www.translator-training.com. My tutor’s advice was invaluable. See the CIOL list of recommended providers here.

• Practice. By the time I obtained the diploma, I had completed over 25 DipTrans papers in exam conditions. It might sound like overkill, but unless you have tons of experience you will need to invest a lot of time and money to have a serious chance of passing the exam. You need to regularly find two or three hours to write the practice exams, plus time to consider the feedback you are getting.

• Digest the feedback from your tutor (i.e. identify your ‘favourite mistakes’). Do you consistently misspell certain words or accidentally use homophones? Your tutor will flag your errors, but it is up to you to collate and learn from them. Categorizing your errors will help you improve.

• Find and consistently execute your exam strategy. To save time, you will want to have as many logistical decisions as possible made before you enter the ‘exam room’. Which of the semi-specialized papers will you choose? Will you read through the entire text first or begin translating immediately? What will your final checks consist of? My strategy for a two-hour paper of 450 words was 30 minutes reading of the source text followed by translation of 40% of it, then 20%, then 40%, then 15 minutes revision. The point is to have time markers so you know how much time you have left – know this and you will know when to accept a reasonable solution to a translation problem, instead of a perfect one.

• Time management goes down to the next level. When organizing your revision of the paper after writing, the checks you carry should be completed one at a time and preferably in a set order that remains the same for every paper you write. Check that your translation has the same number of paragraphs as the source text. (Missing more than 5% of the source text will result in a fail.) Check that all dates are correct. Check that all names are spelt correctly. Check every subject-verb agreement. Check that all sentences end with a full stop. Check whether cultural terms are correctly translated. It can be difficult not to just ‘work on the paper’, but having the discipline to check one thing at a time will pay off.

• Be ready for the unexpected. Just like in real life, sometimes the source text is not perfect. Stepping back and looking at the text as a whole will help, for instance when the last sentence of one paragraph would be better at the beginning of the next one. Depending on your level of experience, translation problems like this or, to use another example, French or German words appearing in a Dutch source text, might throw you off. When issues like this cause a ‘user error/brain freeze’ in the exam, keep moving and come back later.

• Trust yourself. The 2018 edition of the Collins English Dictionary does not have the word ‘humanities’ in it. Cue exam room panic. Is it a word? Is there a better solution? Will I fail on this? Sometimes you will have to lean on your common sense and translation experience so as not to waste too much time.

• Be relentless in questioning your language choices. One of the most important skills in the exam is to continue doubting your language decisions, or at least to subject every decision to doubt.

The DipTrans is a rigorous exam that can help you achieve your career goals. The standard is high and unwavering, which will set you apart when applying to agencies and for employment. If you choose to take the exam, set aside at least six months to prepare, work with a tutor and celebrate every improvement. With intensive preparation the exam is achievable for university language graduates with some experience in translation.

In each stage you need to be obsessive about your interpretation of the information in the source language and word choice in the target language. Do this and stick to your timings, and you’ll have a great chance of passing.

Written by: Paula Truyens
Published: 21 January 2025

Mom and I were clearing away a corner of my garden to put up an inflatable pool for the summer. This involved trimming down a pyracantha that had taken on the proportions of a stegosaurus through years of neglect. Mom, an intrepid and experienced pruner of trees and shrubs, shot up the ladder without waiting for me to hold it in place. As she started pruning the beast, the ladder leaned over and before I could intervene, she toppled into the bush. Luckily, the pyracantha broke her fall and apart from being quite painful, the spikes merely deflated her gusto.

Naturally, Mom didn’t fall silently… her squeals alerted my brother Ben, who was enjoying a beer in the hammock. He came over to see what the hullaballoo was about and saw Mom lying in the prickly pyracantha. He helped me pick up Mom and as I took her inside for a calming cup of tea, I solicited him to finish the pruning job we’d started. In typical Ben style he mumbled ‘Yep, no problem’, but I wondered if he, the ladder or the pruning shears would come out of the job unscathed.

Fifteen minutes later, after we’d had tea, I went outside to see how Ben was getting on. To my surprise, he had disappeared and the ladder and shears were nowhere to be seen either. I did hear several thuds, clanks, and tap-tap-taps coming from behind the shed and, as I got closer, some choice expletives.

‘Ben, what’s going on, what are you doing?’

‘One of the ladder pads has come loose, so I’m fixing it.’

‘Do you think that’s what caused Mom to fall from the ladder?’

‘Yep.’

I went back inside to tell Mom about the loose pad and that this was probably what caused the ladder to slip and her to fall. ‘How is this possible? The last time I used the ladder it was fine, and it’s not that old.’ Knowing how my brother manages to break even the most solidly built objects in the strangest of ways – even a robust metal spatula (which he’d used for something it wasn’t designed for) – I started to suspect that maybe the loose ladder pad was no coincidence…

Two days later, Ben’s best mate Phil popped by with a couple of six-packs and snacks and they invited me to join them on the veranda. A favourite spot of ours on a sunny day, as you get a sweeping view of the magnificent, snow-topped Pyrenees. When Ben went inside for a pee, I told Phil about the ladder.

‘I think Ben broke it and didn’t fix it properly – you remember that time he broke my bike? He said he’d fix it but the next time I rode my bike the chain came off. So I think he didn’t really “fix” the ladder.’

‘But he did fix the bike, I was there and saw him working on it. The chain coming off probably had nothing to do with that,’ said Phil.

‘And what about all that smoke in the kitchen last year? He’ll put something on the stove and forget about it.’

‘He told me something was wrong with the toaster and it was burned bread that caused all that smoke.’

‘Hmm, I’m not sure. He’s just naturally accident-prone; he has some kind of reverse Midas Touch.’ I told him about the strange mishap with the spatula.

‘Yeah, but that spatula was probably one of those cheap, flimsy ones.’

I suspected Ben had misled his bestie…

Mom Knows – at least, I think she must do. She’s our mother, and if anyone knows Ben, she does. So when I popped by for a cup of tea the next day I asked her about these ‘mishaps’.

‘Phil seems to think Ben is perfectly innocent in all this, but I’m not so sure.’

‘Hah, Ben doesn’t do it on purpose, but he’s the most maladroit person I know. But rather than just owning up that it was a clumsy accident, he’ll make out there was something inherently wrong with what he broke.’

‘So do you think he could have broken the ladder?’ I asked Mom.

‘Could well be, and if it was him and he doesn’t fix it, he’ll damn well get me a new one.’

I felt my heart sink for Ben, because he wasn’t exactly strapped for cash and now more shame, guilt and pissed-off-ness at having broken something. But as I leafed through the local newspaper at Mom’s kitchen table, I saw a small piece tucked away on page nine that would normally escape my attention. ‘Escalade Idéale are recalling their X-135 ladder due to defective base pads. If you have one of these, get in touch with us as soon as possible.’ I rushed out to see if the ladder was indeed an X-135 Escalade Idéale. If it was, Ben might be off the hook!

I decided not to tell Mom or Ben about this until I’d made quite sure it was a product fault and not Ben’s fault. So I went over to where Ben had abandoned the ladder, evidently not that concerned about doing anything to fix it or, for that matter, to smooth things over with Mom. To my delight, it was indeed the model and make mentioned in the newspaper blurb.

As I rushed back to tell Mom, Ben strolled past me to where the ladder was. ‘Are you still going to try and fix it?’ I asked him.

‘Yep.’

‘Don’t bother, it was a product fault, I just saw it in the paper! We’ll bring it back to the shop.’ His face lit up and visibly relieved, he said, ‘Cheers, sis.’

When I told Mom, she managed a chuckle but also ‘Hmm, he got lucky this time.’

After the scare of Mom’s fall into the pyracantha, aspersions cast on my poor clumsy brother Ben and the relief (for me at least) of knowing it wasn’t his but a product fault, I felt lunch out on Saturday would do us all good. Mom was up for a walk through picturesque St. Bertrand de Comminges and a visit to the gothic cathedral in the village – which bizarrely houses a large stuffed Nile crocodile. Ben said he’d meet us at the restaurant.

As it was lovely weather, we decided to sit outside, overlooking the village square. Just as the waiter brought us our main meal – boar stew and a jug of Madiran wine – we heard strains of windpipes, drums and lyre strike up a jolly jig. When the troupe came into view from around the corner we saw it was Prima Nocta, a favourite medieval band of ours. Such merriness was just what we needed and I could see Mom and Ben were enjoying themselves. But right after dessert, Ben got up and said, ‘Thanks, sis, I’m heading back home now. See you later!’ Which I thought was odd as we hadn’t even finished the wine and the music was still building up.

When we got back home a few hours later, I heard the familiar clip-clip of shears in my garden and to my surprise I saw Ben on a brand new ladder finishing the job Mom had started a few fateful days ago.

Written by: Frans Kooymans
Published: 8 January 2025

A unique opportunity presented itself last year for me to visit the Pacific Northwest. I was invited by the American Translators Association (ATA) to address its Dutch Language Division (DLD) at its annual conference, held from 30 October to 2 November 2024 in Portland, Oregon, in the US. My translation into Dutch of ‘All God’s Dangers’ by Theodore Rosengarten, the oral history of an illiterate Black sharecropper from Alabama, was the instigation for this invitation. I had spent the better of two years on the translation, which was published in October 2022 as ‘De kleur van katoen’ (ISBN number 978-90-832122-7-2 published by ISVW Uitgevers, part of Internationale School voor Wijsbegeerte). The crown on my translation career, I might say, which allowed me to survive the Covid pandemic unscathed. Tony Parr and Marcel Lemmens, who were distinguished speakers at an earlier ATA conference (as well as Joy Burrough-Boenisch), alerted me to get in touch with the DLD, and an opportunity became a happy reality for me.

ATA65 – yes, the sixty-fifth annual conference of this association of translators, interpreters, and other language specialists – was a big event. It attracted some 1,200 participants from all over the US and abroad, and many languages could be heard at the Oregon Conference Center, ranging from Spanish to Arabic and from French to Chinese and Japanese, as well as English in various accents. During four days close to 200 sessions were held, small as well as plenary, thus plenty to choose from for the often colourful participants. As the conference coincided with Halloween, various witches and ghosts could be discerned during the event, including SENSE member Nina Woodson and her husband, who featured as Alice and the Mad Hatter, straight from Wonderland.

I got the invitation for the conference nearly five months in advance, which meant lots of time to prepare. Too much almost, as it stays on your mind the whole time and leads to a lot of writing and rewriting and then partly deleting to keep the presentations within manageable proportions. I presented two one-hour sessions. The first one titled ‘From All God’s Dangers to De kleur van katoen’ covered the whole process of how I converted the original American English text from 1974, all in the local dialect of a Black cotton farmer from the Deep South, into understandable Dutch, and of the close collaboration with the author, the sometimes frustrating search for a publisher, and the promotion of the Dutch translation of this big book.

My second session covered ‘The State of Literary Translation in the Netherlands’. To prepare for this, I got a wealth of information about the promotional efforts by Expertisecentrum Literair Vertalen (Centre of Expertise for Literary Translation) and Nederlands Letterenfonds (Dutch Foundation for Literature). So my presentation focused, on the one hand, on the efforts to support and train literary translators (a university-level programme, courses, mentorships, etc.) and the grants available to qualifying translators, and on the other hand, on the low level of compensation for literary translation and the difficulties of attracting enough young people to choose a translation career.

The conference started with a Buddies Welcome Newbies event, where long-standing participants (for some this was their tenth or more ATA conference) met newbies such as I. Aside from all the information to be garnished at the numerous sessions, these four days constituted a tremendous networking opportunity. Name badges, which also identified language and nationality, had to be worn to gain attendance to the Oregon Convention Center, but these also stimulated contact between strangers. So I was approached, for example, by the Belgian translator of one of Geert Mak’s books into French.

Four days in a part of the US that I had never visited before was reason for my wife and I to extend our stay to a full three weeks. So we got to see a good bit of the city and its surroundings. The Columbia River Gorge with its many waterfalls, the Mount Hood volcano, the Japanese Garden in the wooded western part of Portland, the rugged Oregon coast – all quite impressive. I have, meanwhile, recovered from the jetlag caused by the nine-hour time difference with home and can look back on a rewarding time in Portland.

Part 1. ‘From All God’s Dangers to De kleur van katoen’

In the autumn of 1974 the literary world saw the publication of ‘All God’s Dangers’ by Theodore Rosengarten, a young historian from up North. This volume of oral history, which won the prestigious National Book Award, tells the life of Nate Shaw, an illiterate Black sharecropper from the Deep South. Rosengarten recorded Shaw’s compelling stories exactly as he had heard Shaw tell them.

Fifty years later Shaw’s history remains relevant, including in the Netherlands, where black lives matter as much as in the US, all in light of its own history of slavery and colonialism (think of Suriname and Indonesia) that is getting much attention these days. So, I set out to translate this big book into Dutch, and two years ago it was published as ‘De kleur van katoen’. The title is a tribute to the storyteller, who took great pride in the lily-white cotton that he produced his entire life, fighting the lifelong odds against him.

‘All God’s Dangers / De kleur van katoen’ continues to captivate the reader. The civil rights movement has meant much for the Black population in the US, but the racism and social discrimination have largely remained. The book shows the hard reality of life in the South and the resilience that is needed to fight on.

Part 2. ‘The State of Literary Translation in the Netherlands’

The archetypical book translator in the Netherlands is a woman aged around sixty. She translates a quarter of a million words of fiction from English to Dutch, earns around €20,000 per year, and often has another language-related job (editor, teacher or subtitler) to make ends meet.

These are findings of a detailed study of some years ago into the job market position of book translators, commissioned by a leading literary foundation that is heavily involved in the training of literary translators, in an effort to attract younger people to the profession.

No one will doubt the importance of literature, but what about the translation of literature? Without a dedicated translator, the Diary of Anne Frank would have had a dreadfully small number of readers, and without the translators duo Bindervoet and Henkes, the Dutch reading public would still be struggling through James Joyce’s Ulysses. So, what keeps students from pursuing a translation career? Is the profession still interesting enough to attract talented candidates? And how are these issues addressed in the Netherlands?

There are enough threats that inhibit a healthy Dutch translation culture. One example is the decline of interest in languages other than English. Another, the limited number of programmes to train translators. And above all, their poor compensation, making it difficult to attract enough young candidates.

But we see solid initiatives in the Netherlands to counter these trends. Training facilities are provided by the Expertisecentrum Literair Vertalen (ELV), including personal coaching, mentorships, and a translators’ house. The Nederlands Letterenfonds provides subsidies to translators: essential since few Dutch books get published in English without a grant. And a Master’s programme in literary translation has been developed by the universities of Utrecht and Louvain.

My recent work

More recently, I have translated from Dutch into English 'Van Alabama naar Margraten' by Mieke Kirkels. The book is about the life of a Black soldier who was involved, towards the end of World War II, in digging the graves at the military cemetery in Margraten at a time when the US Army was still entirely segregated. The title of the translation is, not surprisingly, 'From Alabama to Margraten'. The book will be published this coming spring by Amsterdam University Press, in time for the 80th anniversary of the liberation of Limburg.

Written by: Peter van Gelder
Published: 22 December 2024

The final talk in the 2024 UniSIG programme featured Dr Kate Mc Intyre’s presentation of ‘A critical role for author voice in scientific writing’. Kate is the in-house scientific editor at the Department of Genetics, University Medical Center Groningen and has had extensive experience as a researcher and writer of scientific texts. The presentation took place on Zoom and was attended by more than 20 participants. Kate articulated her position on the role of voice in scientific writing and the need to nurture its development, especially in junior research writers. The presentation lasted for about 40 minutes and was followed by a short period of questions and comments from participants.

Why does ‘voice’ matter?

Kate started by explaining her motivation for focusing on author voice in scientific writing, and offered two key factors. The first was her ‘gut feeling’ that, in the face of AI generative tools, the importance of personal voice is a key issue; the second was her overall impression that voice does matter based on her own experience of editing, teaching, and writing scientific texts. However, acquiring and purposefully using that voice can prove difficult for many scientists as they are neither natural writers nor have English as their native language. Moreover, to take a stance and use voice to project a position can lead to criticism from peers, which can be especially challenging for junior members of a team. In a recent poll of researchers in Kate’s department, many named ‘writing’ as what they least like about their job. Kate believes that this attitude, especially prevalent among junior researchers, can be linked to their struggles to find a personal voice that is independent of the more experienced voices in their research teams.

What is voice?

Kate quoted several definitions of voice, which she condensed into two essential elements: the reflection of self that is expressed in text and the consequent creation of identity, agency and power. Kate then explored two theoretical frameworks of voice in academic texts by introducing Ken Hyland’s stance and engagement model (2005) and Sachiko Yasuda’s more recent model of concepts and categories signifying author voice (2022). Hyland’s model accentuates interaction as he divides the framework into two sections: the first contains the linguistic elements by which writers communicate stance through voice and the second contains the ways that writers engage directly with their readers. Yasuda’s framework addresses the various concepts that convey voice in three categories: voice at the linguistic level, voice at the whole text level, and voice at the non-linguistic level.

How is voice expressed in scientific writing?

We next looked at how voice is expressed in scientific writing, exploring three areas of choice by which authors can use an array of tools to produce personal voice to engage with their readership. The first area of choice is what authors choose to say (and not say). This includes choosing what to describe in the research gap and its relevance to the field/world problem to provide motivation, choosing what previous research to include (or not), choosing what experiments/results to include in the main text as opposed to those moved to supplementary material, and choosing what (and to what extent) to discuss in the Discussion section. The second area of choice is how authors can use linguistic devices to express their voice. This includes word choices (hedges, boosters, attitude markers), choices of how ideas are presented and structured, and the choice of what to say when introducing other research (whether to support a general observation or to explicitly name or express an opinion of a study). The third area of choice deals with what and how to choose the schematics, data visualizations and tables, and how to treat the data and statistics that describe them.

Author’s voice vs field-voice

Kate then introduced the bigger picture of how author voice is expressed and modified within the larger ecosystem of other voices present in the process. In the collaborative journey from writing a scientific text to having it published, the predominant voice may start with the primary author(s) but, along the way, there are others who can exercise a ‘field-voice’. These include co-writers (both supporting and passive), supervisors and senior authors, journal editors and reviewers as well as peers in the research field, all of whom can exercise their voice to influence and merge the original author voice into a field-acceptable voice. Although the inexperienced primary author may be aware of the need to merge their own story with the field-specific voice, they struggle to maintain their personal voice as the writing develops. In the face of this erosion and merging of their personal voice and the pressure of being able to navigate scientific storytelling, how does this affect junior researchers? Kate gives their answer: ‘It can be hard to write when you can feel everyone breathing down your neck’.

Problems and solutions

How can we, as teachers and editors of scientific writing, help science researchers and writers, especially the junior members, develop their personal voice? How can we help them create a narrative in which they are able to express their ideas and, at the same time, merge their voice with that of their research community? The answers to these questions begin with first understanding the problems. Kate presented us with five problems and their solutions.

Problem 1. Very linear storytelling

   Problem – Author can only tell the story in their way
      • Struggles to merge IMRaD structure with their narrative
      • Trouble with transitions and paraphrasing
      • Tendency to repeat factual statements in total, often multiple times
      • Trouble with self-editing

   Solutions
      • Lessons on
        − transitions and paraphrasing
        − how to summarize and reference
        − how to refer to what was said earlier in a text
      • Explanation of reader needs

Problem 2. Navigating a ‘big swerve’

   Problem – Research did not go as planned/hoped
      • Disappointment/frustration creeps into the text
      • Lackluster prose and language, devaluing their own work
      • Failure to adequately address important (if disappointing) findings

   Solutions
      • Show them how to edit out emotion markers
      • Propose ways to emphasize the importance of findings

Problem 3. Navigating a ‘side-quest’

   Problem
      • Author struggles to tell a story that deviates from the overall narrative

   Solutions
      • Be explicit about the deviation, why it is there, and who it is for
      • Clearly signpost the transition back to the main story
      • Usually takes more words and more writing, which is something many authors struggle with

Problem 4. Not enough self (yet)

   Problem
      • Stodgy, overly cautious, formulaic text
      • Unclear connections
      • Weak or no message (often also repetitive)
      • Referencing poor/unclear (performative rather than informative)

   Solutions
      • Highlight where they need to say more
      • Tell them if you see bigger points that need to be made
      • Ask why they are referencing specific references, ask them to be explicit with the reader about this (show them how)
      • Make them write the cover letter!

Problem 5. Graphical ‘voice’ doesn’t fit field

      • There are field norms for graphical representations
        ─ meeting reader expectations enables faster comprehension
      • Can be good to upend norms in pursuit of new paradigms
        ─ sometimes just gets in the way of the message

The ChatGPT elephant in the room

In addition to these problems, we were given something else to confront: addressing the ChatGPT elephant. After analyzing the good, the bad, the beautiful, and the ugly characteristics of this new tool for generating text, Kate assessed the emerging relevance for its use in scientific writing. For those senior-level users who have already developed a personal voice and know what they need to develop their text, but who are also aware that the generated text needs careful editing, ChatGPT can be a useful tool. However, many junior-level authors are not confident enough of their own voice to make the appropriate corrections in a text generated by ChatGPT. There is a need for deeper understanding of two issues. First, teachers and editors need to help students to develop a critical eye early and teach them how to judge a text on what is expected and respected in their discourse community. We also need to help our students understand voice, how it is expressed, and why it is critical in engaging with their scientific storytelling and, consequently, with their readers.

Questions to ponder

Kate finished her presentation with two questions to ponder for the future:

• If a writer can ‘instantaneously’ merge their own writing with a field-average style, will the aspects of their writing that express their individual voice still be crucial for establishing their intellectual integrity?
• Is it only the data that matters, or is it also what you think of the data that matters?

On everyone’s behalf, I would like to thank Kate for an excellent presentation that clearly articulated the issue of recognizing the critical role of voice in scientific writing. For those of us teaching scientific writing, it is a call to go beyond this recognition and focus on the problems and their solutions facing junior-level researchers in navigating a personal voice in their storytelling.

Resources

Hyland, K. (2005). Stance and engagement: a model of interaction in academic discourse. Discourse Studies, 7(2), 173‒192. https://doi.org/10.1177/1461445605050365

Yasuda, S. (2022). Natural scientists’ perceptions of authorial voice in scientific writing: The influence of disciplinary expertise on revoicing processes. English for Specific Purposes, 67, 31‒45. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.esp.2022.03.001

Written by: Curtis Barrett
Published: 16 December 2024

I’ve been a SENSE member since 2011 (has it really been that long?) and in that time I served on the Executive Committee (EC) as Programme Secretary (what is now the SIG and Social Events Coordinator), as well as convener of the SenseMed SIG and chair of the Mentoring Committee.

Three years ago I was approached to serve on the EC again, this time as Treasurer. I must admit my first reaction was ‘No way; I’m not a finance guy, and I don’t know a balance sheet from a dryer sheet!’ But after letting it simmer in the back of my mind for a while, I then thought ‘Why not?’ After all, I’ve been doing my own (admittedly simple) books for years, using an Excel file I created, and it’s really nothing more than adding and subtracting numbers. You start the year with €x in the bank, you bring in €y and spend €z, and you’re left with… what comes after ‘z’?

So I decided to go for it, and I’m so glad I did! My first order of business was to make life so much easier for the Treasurer (i.e. me!) by signing up SENSE with an online bookkeeping program, e-Boekhouden.nl. I was then able to create a series of ledger accounts for our various activities (membership dues, events, etc.), and I linked the program to SENSE’s bank account. So, now everything is nearly foolproof, as each transaction in the bank account gets imported to the bookkeeping program, and I just need to assign it to the proper ledger column. And with just the click of my mouse, I can see a complete summary of our finances, export the balance sheet, profit & loss statement, etc.

By serving as SENSE’s Treasurer, I’m in the unique position of having an overview of our finances, and I get to work closely with the rest of the EC, our Team Leaders, and SIG conveners in deciding how SENSE spends its money (it’s made me quite popular in the Society!). Plus, I’ve learnt so much about finances (yes, I now know the difference between a balance sheet and a dryer sheet), and it’s helped me better organize and maintain my own books.

Although my experience has been hugely rewarding, a term on the EC is three years, and I decided it’s time to pass on the Treasurer’s baton at the next AGM in March 2025. So I’m hoping one of my fellow SENSE members is interested in taking over. Are you that person? If so, please contact me at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.. I also wrote a description of the Treasurer’s responsibilities; you can read this description, and read about other volunteering opportunities, here.

Written by: Monique Oude Luttikhuis
Published: 6 December 2024

For the past twelve years I have been working as a translator and editor of medical and scientific content. Some of the work involved preparing research manuscripts for submission to a scientific journal with the aim of publication. As a former biomedical researcher, that really caught my interest and I decided that I wish to focus more on this type of editing.

With that goal in mind, and to get some more formal training, I took the Chartered Institute of Editing and Proofreading (CIEP) courses ‘Copyediting 2: Headway’ and the ‘Non-Fiction Developmental Editing’. But I knew of one other training course I thought would be a good addition and that was the European Association of Science Editors (EASE) School for Manuscript Editors and Academic Authors. I had to wait quite a few months since the course doesn’t run often. In fact, this was only the second time it ran. Therefore, I was rather excited to register and do it last September – it was a good way to get back to work after the summer holidays.

The EASE training course

This course was ‘designed to help researchers, academics, technical writers and copy editors who edit technical documents to make them more acceptable to journal editors and publishers, less likely to be desk-rejected, and once accepted, be published ahead of other manuscripts’. The training was held over the course of four weeks. Each three-hour session addressed two topics that covered the publication process, presentation of the manuscript and data, and effective writing skills.

The course was presented by Yateendra Joshi, a copyeditor and trainer with over 30 years’ experience. Two of the topics were presented by guest speakers who shared their in-depth knowledge. The 33 attendees came from all over the world, from four continents to be precise, and had various backgrounds: manuscript editors, authors, researchers, author editors, journal office staff, copyeditors and proofreaders.

What I learnt

1. What are the steps in the publication process

I knew from experience that there are multiple steps involved in getting your research published: choosing a journal, preparing an article manuscript, submitting it to an appropriate journal, peer review and responding to peer review and, ultimately, publication. However, my time as a researcher had been quite a long time ago and things have changed. So, I could do with a reminder of how it all works. And I was not disappointed.

All steps involved were discussed in depth. Consequently, I now have a much better understanding of the route to publication. I think it is helpful to be aware of what happens before and after submission because it clarifies where manuscript preparation fits into the process. It reminded me of my teacher training, when I had to do something similar. I was training to teach children aged 7 to 11 and we had to spend time in schools with children aged 5 to 7 and in schools with children aged 11 to 14 to find out where the children came from and where they were moving onto.

2. How to prepare a manuscript for submission

Manuscript editors can help with correcting spelling, punctuation and grammar, ensuring good sentence structure so that the author’s message can be understood by the reader, and formatting the manuscript so that it complies with the journal’s instructions for authors.

There may be many reasons for manuscripts not being accepted for publication: some related to the study itself or the manuscript not falling within the scope of the chosen journal, and others related to language errors or not adhering to the journal’s instructions for authors. I wish to help researchers with the latter and, in doing so, improve the chances of their manuscript not being rejected at first sight and, therefore, being considered for peer review. Spelling, punctuation and grammar must be perfect – or near perfect. As editors we know how to spell or if we are unsure, we can consult a dictionary. We also know how to use punctuation and grammar correctly. But there is so much more to creating a well-presented text. Do we know what to do with numbers in a manuscript? In which situations is it appropriate to use percentages? And what about levels of precision? Is there a space between the percentage sign and the number? Or between the number and the unit? What units to use? And are we using the correct multiplication sign? No, not the letter x. All this may sound rather dull, but it wasn’t. The explanations of the finer points were interspersed with engaging anecdotes. As a bit of a perfectionist, it was music to my ears. I was very happy to have all the above questions – and many more like those – answered.

It didn’t stop there. Citations and references were also discussed in detail, as were the different reference styles. Again, multiple examples showed the many ways in which citations and references can be formatted. That’s why it is so important to look at the instructions for authors for the particular journal you wish to publish in and its recent issue. They all seem to have their own preferences, for example, in author-year citations, a comma before the year or not and in numbered citations, the number in italics or roman. There were too many options to mention. I found out though that I truly enjoy looking at texts to that level of detail.

3. How to prepare tables and charts

Many academic articles include tables with numerical data. But do we know what makes a good table? What headings should be used? Should numbers be left-aligned, centre-aligned or right-aligned? And what to do with cells that have no data? I never knew there was so much to designing a clear and informative table. Many examples were shown to illustrate what makes a good table and why some tables are just too difficult to interpret.

We can ask the same question about charts. What makes a good chart? How do you know which chart is right for your data? As a tutor of maths, biology and chemistry I am familiar with the common types of chart and I know which one to use when: line graphs, box plots, bar charts, histograms, pie charts, kite diagrams and scatter graphs. But there are many more. Here I was introduced to some new charts – at least new to me. For example, I had never seen violin plots, heat maps and Coxcomb charts before. Thanks to the examples shown and the detailed explanations, I now understand much better which chart to use for what type of data and I have an insight into the large variety of tools available for creating any type of chart. Although I do not need to know how to produce tables and charts, I want to know what they are telling me.

4. How to improve effective writing skills

I know that to be a good editor, it is essential to also be a good writer. Effective writing is a skill and, therefore, it can be learnt and, of course, improved. To write effectively you must write in such a way that your readers understand what you are trying to tell them. The writing needs to be clear, concise and accurate. The course offered much advice on how to tackle writing in a systematic way and how to become an effective writer, and that it is normal for a good piece of writing to have gone through many drafts.

It was pointed out that writing skills can also be improved by extensive reading, in particular books by good writers. That’s certainly not a chore. I was especially excited about the Very Short Introductions series by Oxford University Press and the shortlist for the Royal Society Science Book Prize. These have introduced me to a lot of books I would otherwise not have read.

What I liked and why

I enjoyed the course immensely; the breadth and depth of information that was presented was extraordinary. Almost too much to grasp first time around. If anything hadn’t fallen into place, we could watch the recordings that were made available to all attendees.

What I found particularly helpful is that the trainer, Yateendra Joshi, showed so many examples. He explained very carefully how some things didn’t work, which made it much easier to understand the points he was trying to make. And if you still had questions, you could ask either during the session or by emailing him – I frequently did and always received a helpful answer within a few hours. Or you could try to find the answer yourself, since every session concluded with a long list of recommended reading.

After taking the course, many aspects of the editing and writing process have become much clearer. And I have this extensive list of helpful sources that I can turn to.

I hope this post has given you an impression of what the course has to offer. If you have any questions about the course or anything you think I may be able to help you with, feel free to This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it..

I’m sure a lot of people recognize this: you love to write but you can’t seem to find the time. A write-along, by analogy with the MALs and CALs (make-along; crochet-along) from the world of handicrafts and of course the good old sing-along, is a big friendly nudge to help you find that time. A write-along means working on the same project at the same time as other participants. You get instructions one at a time, sometimes every day, but in the case of the first SENSE Write-along that was launched last April, one a week, for twelve weeks. And by the end of that time, you will have written a short story! The assignments are designed to cost you no more than ten to fifteen minutes in actual writing time.

As with all activities you have to find time for, like going to the gym or weeding the garden, actually getting started is the hardest part. With the write-along, most people are hooked on completion of the first assignment. As language professionals, whether translators, copy-writers, editors, or working in other directions, we have to be good writers too. And practising is the best way to keep that skill sharp.

We started the SENSE Write-along with 31 participants and only three dropped out after the first week or two (they shall be nameless here). As far as I know, all the other participants completed the whole process. Sadly, only five chose to post their stories in the section of the Forum set aside especially for them. But those five made me very happy. When you read all of the texts, it’s hard to remember that they were all written according to the same assignments. That’s part of the fun of a write-along and of reading the resulting stories.

A big thank you to everyone who took part this time!

I will be starting a new write-along on 3 January 2025 and I invite you to participate (send an email to This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.). It would be great if more participants shared their stories with each other.

The writers of the first write-along who agreed to their texts being published will see them appear sometime on the SENSE Blog, but in the meantime I leave you with the short story written by Sally Hill.

A walk in the park
By Sally Hill

Jeannie always let Prince off his leash when they reached the park, and just could not understand how he had ended up at the edge of the duck pond with a broken leg and the life sucked out of him. As she kneeled next to his lifeless body, her neighbour Brenda – uncharacteristically dressed in a boilersuit – approached to offer her sympathies.

Jeannie was surprised at her concern given that Brenda had never previously given either Prince or Jeannie the time of day – and had certainly never been so neighbourly. In response to Brenda’s questions as to what had happened, Jeannie could only reply that it had to have been something to do with the group of teenagers who were always hanging around under the oak trees near the pond. Brenda agreed, but as she helped Jeannie clean the mud off Prince’s coat and wrap him in a reusable shopping bag, Jeannie couldn’t help noticing a stain on Brenda’s boilersuit – a dark red stain that was not mud and looked suspiciously like blood.

After returning home from the vets to dispose of Prince’s muddy body, Jeannie mentioned her suspicions to her boyfriend Chris, and the rumours she’d heard that Brenda was a notorious dog hater; but she was not able to persuade him that Brenda was the culprit. Was she just imagining things after all?

There was only one thing for it – she decided to go round to Brenda’s house on the context of borrowing a cup of honey, to see if she could pick up any more clues. To Jeannie’s surprise, her repeated knocking kicked off a great deal of barking from behind the door, and when she peered through the double glazing to take a closer look, she counted what appeared to be nine puppies of various breeds, all in small cages!

As she later related to Chris, still shaking from her subsequent confrontation with her neighbour, Jeannie could never have imagined how right she had been to be suspicious – who would have thought that Brenda was in fact a vampire who survived on dogs’ blood. Chris was fascinated and amazed at this revelation and managed to persuade Jeannie to invite Brenda to join them at that Sunday’s Hollywood Vampires concert at the O2 Arena – imagine having a real vampire alongside him while listening to his favourite band!

The evening was a great success and from then on, the three of them were firm friends; although you will not be surprised to learn that Jeannie and Chris never invited Brenda to join them when taking their new puppy Bounce for his walk in the park.