Chris has degrees in engineering, arts and theology. He has published academic theses, peer-reviewed articles, book chapters, online opinion, and op-ed pieces about climate change, science, religion and philosophy. He’s a pedant who risks boring his kids with oft-repeated warnings about essay structure and grammar.
Andrew is a liberal arts graduate who types faster than you can think. He’s also bilingual in Spanish and English, drives anything with a gear box, and leaps tall buildings in a single bound. His eye for misplaced apostrophe’s is unmatched.
Lindy is a gun typist/transcriber and trained as a nurse. She’s a multi-tasker who brought up five boys. She transcribes for the National Library of Australia and ABC Radio National when she’s not reading Agatha Christie.
Jon has a degree in communication and works as a radio news presenter and reporter. He clocked a typing PB of 120wpm at age 13. Pedantry runs in his veins and is seldom used in vain. He has worked as a sub-editor on a number of magazines.
Elizabeth once won a medal for her proofreading, and has edited and proofread several magazines. She has a Media and Communications degree, a French diploma, a shorthand certificate and a great pair of gumboots. Her work has been widely published.
Sophie has been paid to do all sorts of things with words. She’s something of a bricoleur, having worked in radio, print, editing and publishing. She has a strange phobia of flour and a degree in communication as well as being on the way to others in theology and creative writing.
Sally has degrees in medicine and philosophy, a diploma in violin and just got a new job as full-time mum, the most challenging she has had. She speaks English, Mandarin and French, and also knows Latin, which has given her insights into English grammar and jokes in Asterix comics.
Diana’s background is in French, German, theology, psychology and education, combined with heretical and unofficial side-tracks into history and creative writing. She is a ruthless which-hunter and conciliatory reuniter of infinitives, while a preposition on the end of a clause is something up with which she will not put.
Matt is 16 years old and plays the flute terrifically well. He wants to work for The Public Sentence when he has learned to not split his infinitives. Meanwhile he entertains us with Mozart and Mouquet.
So, between us there are few jobs we can’t do—apart from sky-writing.